


Father and Son

by Clea2011



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Music, Musicians, Rock Stars, Rock and Roll, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-20 10:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 58,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16135052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clea2011/pseuds/Clea2011
Summary: “You’re gay!” Uther exclaimed, as if Arthur had handed him some delightful gift.  “That’s wonderful!  I’m so proud!”And that, really, should have been a warning.  But nothing could have been a warning for what happened next.In which Uther is the king... of rock and roll,  Merlin is a magical singer, Morgana casts a spell over everyone, and Arthur... Well, Arthur really wishes he was anywhere but here.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LFB72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFB72/gifts).
  * Inspired by [ART: Father and Son](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16079384) by [LFB72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFB72/pseuds/LFB72). 



> This ridiculous scenario came to me last year and foolishly I thought it would only be about 30k in length. I really should learn to take my estimates and double them! Having failed miserably to produce an ACBB for the past two years I was determined to finish this time (I do still intend finishing the other one).
> 
> I was so lucky to have my dear friend LFB as my artist. She's produced some gorgeous pieces, please do go and leave her all the love and kudos that she deserves. LFB also acted as cheerleader and was tremendously supportive. She's wonderful to work with. (We both probably should also thank Anthony Head for singing on stage at this year's Wales Comic Con - we did find that extra-inspiring!)
> 
> Huge thanks also to the very lovely Wasp, Polo and Cam for all their encouragement, read-throughs and support while I was writing this and also for a last-minute amazing betaing job! You are all the best! And finally of course massive thanks to Kitty who is just a wonderful mod and does a fantastic job running this fest every year.

 

 

 

 

Arthur, or Catweazle Skydancer King Arthur Pendragon as it said on his birth certificate, stared miserably out of his bedroom window.

For some people, Arthur’s life might seem like a dream come true.  He lived in a massive mansion with vast grounds and enough money to buy whatever he liked.  He was on first name terms with the rich and famous and if he chose to he could have been amazingly famous in his own right.

Arthur did not choose to be famous. 

Arthur, in fact, would have been quite happy living in a quiet suburban street and working a regular job.  He would have liked to be able to go into a bar without the press following him.  He would, more than anything, have liked to have had a normal father.  But that was never going to happen.

Uther Pendragon was The King.

He’d been The King for three decades.  Perhaps he was starting to look a bit worn round the edges now, but thirty-odd years on the stage would do that to anyone. 

Supposedly he was the lead singer of The Dragons, but that ship had sailed years ago after a blazing row had torn the band apart during the tour for their second album.  Now it was Uther Pendragon who headlined, with ‘and The Pendragons’ in small letters.  They weren’t even just dragons any more.  But Uther was a megastar, so his band just had to either like it or leave.  There were a lot of benefits to staying.  Few left of their own accord.  Unlike Arthur though, they did have that choice.

Arthur could see a car winding its way down the main estate drive.  Vast, expensive and black with heavily tinted windows.  It was probably his father coming home in one of his many cars.  Or, possibly, one of his current band members.  There was a new album to start recording any day now.  The house would be heaving.

Over the years the line-up of Uther’s band had changed.  He was now the only original member.  Lot, the obligatory stoned drummer, had kept up with Uther the longest but he’d gone on stage out of his head one too many times and Uther had sacked him.  Lot’s replacement, Gwaine, was actually gathering fans of his own.  This was largely due to his penchant for drumming shirtless, which showed off his unfeasibly well-honed physique (particularly unfeasible considering that he spent most of his time in the nearest bar).  Gwaine just oozed sex.  It did ticket and album sales no harm at all.  Arthur had endured a two-year secret crush on him.  Sadly it appeared to be unrequited.  Arthur was apparently the only person on the planet that Gwaine wasn’t interested in shagging.  Being the boss’s son had its drawbacks.

The car wouldn’t contain Gwaine.  Gwaine had a bright red sports car that he drove with the top down whenever possible, letting his gorgeous hair loose in the breeze. 

Lance, the bass guitarist, had joined a couple of years before Gwaine.  He was quiet and just got on with the serious business of his music, never trying to steal the limelight from The King.  It was a relationship that worked very well for both of them.  He’d also recently married Gwen, Morgana’s personal assistant.  It wasn’t very rock and roll, but then neither were Gwen or Lance.  They simply loved music.  And each other of course.  Lance was every bit as handsome as Gwaine, but clearly unavailable. And, sadly, straight. 

It probably wouldn’t be Lance who was arriving either.  He had a people carrier in anticipation of a future huge family with Gwen.  Deeply sensible.

Cenred, the lead guitarist, completed the line-up.  He had been around for a while.  Nobody liked him much as far as Arthur could tell, there was something a bit creepy about him.  He was, however, a decent enough guitarist and so he stayed.

It could be Cenred.  He liked to be secretive, as if he were more than just the guitarist in a backing band.  Tinted windows were a thing with him. 

The car stopped at the end of the drive. The chauffeur quickly got out and opened the passenger door.

Of course, it was Uther Pendragon inside.  He stepped out, donned sunglasses that weren’t really necessary for the short walk across the mansion driveway, and headed into his home.  Despite the heat of summer, he was wearing his trademark black leathers.  On anyone else it would probably look sad, but Uther was king of the world and could do what he liked.

Uther toured the planet in his black leathers.  He’d eventually cut off his near waist-length hair because no matter how cool you were, there was an age at which it started to look ridiculous.  And so he’d escaped some of the mockery that his peers endured, and moved on into the realm of the icon, the serious rocker, the legend.

The King.

“Cat!” Uther called.  “Get down here!”

Arthur sighed to himself, and didn’t move. Uther would get distracted by something soon enough and forget he’d called them.  Or Morgana would get down there first and monopolise their father.  It was what often happened.

If Uther was The King then his two children had to be the prince and princess.  In theory at least.  Uther loved Arthur and his sister Morgana very much, and always let the press know just how very proud and pleased he was with the pair of them.  In private, though, things were slightly different.

Morgana (Periwinkle Topsy Morgana Le Fay Pendragon to be exact), Uther’s daughter by some hanger-on a few years before he met Arthur’s mother Ygraine, was someone he could deal with.  She courted the press, had been famous in her own right since the end of the noughties, and was every bit her father’s daughter.  Not that Morgana would ever admit that.  And Arthur certainly wouldn’t be suicidal enough to point it out.

Arthur was not suicidal.  True, sometimes the embarrassment of his ridiculous name got a bit much, but that was the trouble with having a world famous rock star for a father.  One of the many troubles.

“Cat!” Uther called again.

Arthur hadn’t heard Morgana in the house that day.  Perhaps she wasn’t in.  At any rate it was unusual for Uther to only call for one of them.  Unless he actually wanted to genuinely talk about something.

Arthur could guess exactly what it was going to be that he wanted to talk to Arthur about.  It wasn’t a conversation that he was looking forward to.  Reluctantly, Arthur got up and headed downstairs.  He didn’t hurry.

Uther might have been The King, but he clearly had no idea what to do with a son.  Ygraine had died while Arthur was still an infant, and Uther had cut a tragic figure ever since.  It of course gained him even more of a cult following.  There were few things that people enjoyed more than angsting over someone else’s broken heart.  And Uther did heartbroken very well.  He’d worn nothing but black for twenty years (which wasn’t that much of a change, given that he was a rocker), wrote rock anthems dedicated to Ygraine, and claimed to have built a shrine to her in the grounds of his mansion.

In fact, it was a pretty little grotto with a statue of a fairy that bore a vague resemblance to Ygraine. Arthur and Morgana both enjoyed playing there as children, and Morgana in later years enjoyed herself even more in there entertaining various fit members of their staff.  Ygraine, if she was watching, probably got quite an eyeful. 

Morgana was a rebel, and Uther loved her for it.  Arthur, on the other hand, was quieter than his sister and shunned the limelight.  Or at least shunned it as much as was possible for the son of a megastar.  It wasn’t that he didn’t get on with his father or that he didn’t love him.  It was simply that they had absolutely nothing in common.

When Arthur was very young, Uther had proudly carried his little son onto the stage at the end of a massive tour.  Arthur could remember the endless sea of people all chanting his name… No, actually they’d been chanting _Cat! Cat! Cat!_ as if there were an escaped moggy on the stage with them. If he hadn’t hated the name before that because of the way everyone smirked when they said it, he certainly loathed it after that. The noise of the shouting, and the amplified music crashing in his ears had been terrifying.  He could feel the beat of Lot’s drumming vibrating right through his tiny body and had turned to bury his face in his father’s shoulder and burst into tears.  At least Uther had been sensible enough to realise his mistake and taken him straight back to the wings.

Uther hadn’t tried to bring him out again.  Which was just as well because ever since that night Arthur had been nervous of going on stage.  Uther didn’t understand it.  He’d tried to get Arthur involved in the celebrity world as much as Morgana was.  But where he succeeded with one, he failed with the other.  Arthur just wasn’t interested.  And he absolutely hated being in the papers.

But he was in the papers now.

“Arthur!” he heard Uther call.  This time his father’s voice was weary, annoyed at Arthur not responding to his birth name.  Arthur felt that he was training Uther to use his name of choice and it was now time for the positive reinforcement.

“Coming!” he called back, walking down the vast marble staircase that was at the heart of Uther’s mansion.  His father emerged from the sitting room, a glass of whisky already in his hand.  Well, why not?  It was two in the afternoon.  Late for Uther.

“Come in here,” Uther ordered.  He didn’t wait for a reply and went straight back into the drawing room.  Having everyone fall over themselves to do whatever you wanted for thirty years probably made him forget a time when people disobeyed.  They never had.  Not in Arthur’s lifetime anyway.  Arthur was tempted to run out of the front door and keep running.  It wasn’t the first time he’d had that urge.

But Arthur couldn’t do that.  There was no escape for the son of one of the most famous men in the world.  The press would get wind of his flight, and then they would hunt him down more efficiently than any number of trained private detectives.  He would be questioned and hounded and never ever left alone.  So he followed his father into the sitting room.

“Scotch?” Uther asked.  Again he didn’t wait for an answer, just poured a second glass and brought it over to his son.  Thirty-year-old single malt, nothing but the best. 

Arthur preferred beer but that was never on offer at home.

“You’ve seen the papers?” Arthur asked as his father sat down in one of the plush armchairs.  He knew the answer.  Uther had probably been fielding questions from the press all morning.

“Yes.” Uther swirled the whisky in his glass, observing it for a moment before taking a mouthful.  Then he leaned forward in his chair, his face serious. “I wish you’d told me, Cat.”

“Arthur.”

“Yes, Arthur, if you like. You know you’ll always be Cat to me.  But never mind that.  Why didn’t you tell me?  Did you think I was going to disapprove?”

No.  Quite the opposite.  Arthur knew that his father would be stupidly, ridiculously supportive.  And so Arthur had struggled with his sexuality as much as anyone with a homophobic parent would do.  He’d ignored Uther’s attempts to pair him off with a suitable girl all through his teenage years.  He’d avoided even having a boyfriend until recently.  But eventually he had met Cedric, a session singer who’d worked briefly at his father’s studio, and things had developed.

At least they had until the little shit went to the papers with his story.  And his photos.  God, the photos…

“I didn’t know what you’d think,” Arthur attempted.  “I’m sorry.”

“I would have warned you about him if I’d known,” Uther sighed.  “He tried to blackmail Cenred. That was why we didn’t use him for any other recordings.”

“He said it was because his voice made yours sound off-key.”

Uther laughed at that.  It was ludicrous after all.  Uther had a good voice but by that stage of his career he could have recorded drunken karaoke with a wolf howling accompaniment and it would still have sold. “It would have to be a better singer than he was to do that. We paid him off quietly and thought that was the end of it.”

“Should I ask what he had over Cenred?”

Uther shook his head.  “Seven in a bed with photos or something like that.  I didn’t want the details.”

“Cedric likes taking photos,” Arthur said bitterly.  His naked arse had been all over the front page of a particularly scurrilous rag that morning. 

“Yes.  I’m sorry this has happened, C… _Arthur_ , but you can trust me with these things.  I could have stopped this. Perhaps now you’ll confide in me a little more in the future?”

“Yes.”  Arthur had no intention of doing so, but agreement seemed appropriate.

“Good.  Thank you.  I suppose your sister knows?”

“She didn’t know I was seeing Cedric.  She knew I’m gay, has done for years.”

“Hard to get anything past Morgana,” Uther smiled fondly just at the thought of her.  “A pity that the one time someone succeeded it was over this.  She knew about what Cedric did to Cenred and would have warned you too.”

“He didn’t even ask me for money.”

“No.  Well, the papers would have paid a fortune for an exclusive like that, especially with the pictures. I understand he’s got himself a book deal as well.  It won’t last.  A young man coming out is hardly ground breaking news no matter who his family are. And I understand there’s already a backlash against him on social media. A lot of the gay rights organisations are condemning him for it. And you’ll have all the support you need, so don’t worry about that.  I’ve already put out a statement through my press office saying exactly what I think about this kind of intrusion on my family’s privacy.  And how I’m appalled at the homophobia shown by the media over this – because that’s what it is. They’re writing one for you as well. Devastated by the betrayal of trust in the innocence of your first relationship… that’s the line I think they were going for.  You can review it if you like.”

“I’d prefer to write it myself.  Or say nothing.  Can’t we say nothing?”

“It’ll go away faster if we go for sympathy.  Do you think you could cry if we set up a press conference?  That would really turn the tables.”

“Cry?” Arthur gaped at his father, unable to believe his ears.  “I hate the press, you know that.  I’m not going to sit there snivelling like a baby for their entertainment.”

“Pity.” Uther took another swig of his drink. “Well, it’s out there now and can’t be helped.  We’ll just make the best of it.”

Arthur grunted, not trusting himself to speak.  He took a cautious sip of the expensive scotch. It was probably very good but he knew he’d never appreciate it properly.

“But anyway, forget about the idiots who wrote that article.  You’re gay!” Uther smiled, as if Arthur had handed him some delightful gift.  “I think that’s wonderful!  I’m so proud of you!  I’ll put a pro-gay song on the new album.  Several… no, I’ll make it the theme. I want to show how much I support you.  I’m feeling really inspired.  I’m going to dedicate the entire album to you.”

And that, really, should have been a warning.  But nothing could have been a warning for what happened next.

“He wants me to sing on the album with him.”

Arthur gazed mournfully at his sister over his breakfast.  Morgana was sitting in the kitchen still wearing the clothes she’d gone out in the night before.  Arthur suspected she had just got in and was actually having supper. Morgana never, ever joined him for breakfast normally.  In fact, she rarely emerged from her bed much before noon.

“So sing on the album with him.  Use it to publicise yourself, then go solo.”

“I don’t want to publicise myself.  Or have a music career.”

“It’s in your blood.  Don’t fight it.” Morgana reached across and snagged one of his slices of toast, then sat back in her chair munching on it. 

“You don’t do it.”

“My mother wasn’t a singer.  Anyway, I have other talents.”

“Hanging around nightclubs and getting your picture taken isn’t a talent.”

“I’m networking.”

“You’re going to end up on Celebrity Love Island or something equally dire.  I’ll have to disown you.”

“Huh.” She poured herself another cup of coffee.  It had to be at least her third.  Sleep wasn’t going to be happening.  “For your information, little brother, I’ve got a contract for my new designer range. There will be no reality shows for me, thank you very much. Vogue are interested in doing a feature and I’ve got shows lined up for the next couple of months.  _Fashion_ shows, Arthur, not reality crap. What are _you_ doing?  Besides being too good to come and work with me.”

Morgana had practically begged Arthur to be her business manager.  He’d refused, because he still entertained dreams of being accepted by an established company at that stage.  Some months later, with no job offer in sight, he was starting to regret that decision. But there was no need for Morgana to know that.

“I’m still considering my options.  Besides, you’ve got someone now.”

Morgana had Agravaine Du Bois as her manager.  Arthur didn’t like him and didn’t particularly trust him, but the alternative was to do it himself.  He half-suspected that was the reason Morgana had hired Agravaine. She thought Arthur would be so horrified that he would capitulate and manage her as she wanted.  He wasn’t going to give in.  Not yet, anyway.

“I have,” Morgana sighed.  “And he’s very good.  He’s found a great spot for my first boutique.”

“I suppose our father is going to open it for you?”

Morgana shrugged. “Why pay someone when all I have to do is look pleadingly at him and mention all those times he went off on tour for months when we were kids?”

That would be right.  Morgana had their father wrapped around her perfectly manicured little finger.  He was probably scared she was going to write the daddy version of _Mommie Dearest_ or something.  Not that there was any need.  As far as Arthur was concerned not taking them on tour was actually good parenting.  Morgana didn’t entirely agree.

“So what are you going to do with yourself today?” Morgana asked over the top of her coffee cup.

“You know I’m looking for work,” Arthur replied.  He busied himself buttering a slice of cold toast that he didn’t actually want. Anything rather than meet the worry that he knew he’d see in her eyes.

“I know you’ve been mooching around this house ever since you graduated, with your face getting longer every week.  Come on, you need work experience, something to put on your CV. I’ll speak to Agravaine, tell him to hire you as his assistant.  He’s always complaining that he’s got too much to do.”

“No.” Arthur didn’t want to work with Agravaine and he definitely didn’t want family handouts.  It wouldn’t help to make the accusations of nepotism go away at all.  “I’ll find something.” 

He wished he believed it himself. 

“You’re just too proud,” Morgana sighed.  “You know, in some ways this is your teenage rebellion?” Morgana often tried to psychoanalyse Arthur.  She’d done a Psychology and Fashion design degree because really who wouldn’t want to create ridiculous clothing while they were trying to sort someone’s head out?  The analysis was annoying, but he did love the kit she’d created for his university football team.  His friends had loved it too.  Sadly, most of the time she created things nobody in their right mind would ever wear.  Her latest range was some pseudo-goth design that looked as if it had been half torn apart by some clawed beast.  Apparently it was edgy.  Arthur thought it looked like burnt rags.

“I’m not rebelling,” Arthur told her.  “How can I when our father parades around in black leather and would love nothing more?  I think his biggest disappointment as far as I’m concerned is that I haven’t turned emo.”

“Exactly.  It’s your special way of rebelling against him.  Anyway, you _are_ emo.  You just don’t dress for it because you know father would approve.  The emo in a suit and tie.  Actually, it’s hilarious.” Her expression suddenly turned serious.  “Oh Arthur, _please_ let me write a paper on you.”

Arthur loved his sister, he really did.  Except when she said things like that.  He picked up his coffee and headed back to his room.   After all…

“You’re just proving my point!” she called after him.  “Emo!”

It would be nice to be an only child.  Almost as nice as it would be to be an orphan.

 Uther’s new album was, apparently, going very well.

There were, as usual, an endless stream of musicians trailing through the house at any given time of the day or night.

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Uther kept telling Arthur. “A duet would be perfect for the song I’m going for.  I’ll have to find someone else if you won’t do it.”

Arthur was not going to change his mind.

“Last chance, Arthur,” Uther told him that lunchtime.  “The singer we’ve hired arrives today.”

“Wouldn’t want them to miss out on what might be their big break,” Arthur replied.  “Maybe they’ll sleep with Cenred, I’m sure that’ll help them along.”  He was in a bad mood.  Three more rejected job applications that morning.  And the agency had told him that due to his ‘unique’ set of personal circumstances he was almost impossible to place.  Well, unless he wanted a job in the entertainment industry, in which case there would be no problem.

Arthur really didn’t want that.  He wanted to stand on his own two feet.  He wanted to find a job where he was just Arthur Pendragon, Business Manager.  Or by now he’d take Arthur Pendragon, Tea Boy.  Because the serious businesses that Arthur applied to just didn’t want to know about a rock star’s son.  Especially not one with Catweazle down as their first name.  Never mind that Arthur had a first class honours from Albion University in Business Development and Accountancy.  He was too big a risk. There might be a family emergency – his father might bite the head off a bat or eat someone’s hamster or something.

Then there were the Uther fans. They were the worst.  Those were the ones who did call him for interview and then spent the entire session asking him questions about his father – when the next album was out, could he get them VIP tickets to the show, was Uther still single, was Arthur able to work from home and if so would Pendragon Manor be able to host meetings… and perhaps your father would like to join us?

No, the fans were definitely the worst.

“Too bad you won’t be singing with us,” Gwaine told him.  He was up and hanging around uncharacteristically early, mostly because Uther had ripped him a new one for being two hours late for the previous day’s session.  “You’d be great.  Still, I hear the guy we’re hiring is mega-cute.  So, win-win!”

Mega-cute.  So Gwaine would have a go, like he did with everything that breathed. Well, everything except Arthur anyway.  Arthur disliked the singer, whoever he was, already.

“Yes,” Uther agreed. “He’s about your age, just starting out in the business. And gay of course.  I made sure of that.  Perhaps you’ll like him, Arthur.  You should come and watch the session.  I’ll introduce you to him.”

Arthur managed not to tell his father to fuck off.  After all, Uther would probably approve of it or something equally dire.  

“Unfortunately I’m busy,” Arthur claimed.  “But good luck with it all.”

“All the more for me!” Gwaine announced gleefully.  Uther frowned at him but Gwaine was unrepentant. He’d got his drumsticks out and did a little celebratory roll on the nearest wall in anticipation of his pending conquest.

It really wasn’t fair, Arthur thought bitterly.  He decided to have a quick look at the session singer just to see exactly what it was that made him so attractive to Gwaine.  There was an excellent view of the drive from Arthur’s room and if he happened to be sitting up there working when the singer arrived… well, it wasn’t as if Arthur was doing anything other than casually glancing out of the window, was it? 

Nothing wrong with looking.

Working was perhaps a generous term for what Arthur was doing when Merlin first arrived in his life.

Trying to beat level 3470 of Candy Crush might have been a more accurate description of what he was up to. It wasn’t as if he had anything else to do.  His friends all had secured pretty good jobs and were busy during the day.  He envied them.

Most of the cars that arrived at Pendragon Manor were expensive, or sporty, or both.  So it was a little odd to see a green, dusty and battered-looking little Ford Fiesta making its way down the driveway.

It was a really old model as well. Arthur knew without needing to be told that this would be the session singer arriving.  They were often fairly penniless and tended to be grateful for the work.  Doubtless that gratitude would be what Gwaine was banking on.  Arthur wasn’t sure whether to be envious or to pity them.

Abandoning his game Arthur gave his full attention to the new arrival.  They parked the scruffy little car right next to Gwaine’s bright red sports number; it stood out like a sore thumb against everything else parked there.  Arthur was just waiting for George, Uther’s super-efficient and infuriatingly fussy assistant, to come out and insist it was moved out of sight.  But George was probably far too busy fetching whatever bizarre things Uther had decided on a whim that he _must_ have while the creative juices were flowing.  He wouldn’t have time to be interested in keeping the driveway immaculate.

The driver’s door opened and the session singer emerged. Gwaine was right.  He _was_ cute.  Tall and slender with a mop of unruly dark hair.  Though Arthur only had a moment to see this because the man immediately opened up the boot of his car and leaned in, leaving Arthur with an excellent view of his arse.  Nice.

For a moment Arthur wished that he’d taken his father up on the offer of an introduction.  But no, that would be creepy.  Still, there was time to dash downstairs to fetch… anything… and to casually run into the newcomer completely by coincidence.

Arthur looked around, settled on a dirty plate and mug that the maid hadn’t come in and cleared away yet, and decided he would be uncharacteristically helpful.  He checked himself quickly in the mirror and smoothed down his hair.  Then he picked up the used crockery and went out to stand at the top of the stairs, waiting for the front door to open.

“What are you doing?”

Damn.  Typically, Morgana was at home and had to emerge from her suite at exactly the worst moment.  She was regarding Arthur curiously as he stood there holding the plates.

“I…um…was taking this to the kitchen. I thought I’d help the maid… um… wanted to stretch my legs.”

“That works better if you actually move,” Morgana pointed out. 

Reluctantly, Arthur began to make his way downstairs.  He could faintly hear the man outside talking into the intercom.  But the front door still hadn’t opened so he went as slowly as he could.  Morgana continued to watch him suspiciously, then started to follow him down.

“You’re up to something,” she accused.  “Do you even know where the kitchen is?”

“Of course I do!” 

He did.  It was simply that it was easier to call down and ask someone to bring whatever he wanted up.  Mostly.  Sometimes he went in there and made himself a cup of tea.  Occasionally.  Once or twice, anyway.  George always tended to appear and hover around Arthur.  That made Arthur a bit nervous as George always would pounce as soon as Arthur looked remotely as if he might be doing something incorrectly.  It did nothing for his confidence.

“Are you feeling all right?” Morgana continued. She was right behind him as they reached the foot of the stairs.  “You’re moving very slowly.  Is it the stress of the job hunting?  Or… Ah!”

There was a click as the lock was released on the front door.  It swung open and the deliciously scruffy singer staggered in.  He was struggling to get a very battered guitar case through the doorway. It would have been perfect if Morgana hadn’t been there.  Arthur could have offered to help, struck up a conversation…

“I see,” Morgana whispered. “Ah well, I can’t say I blame you.  Cute!  Hello there!” She breezed past Arthur and strode over to greet the newcomer. “I’m Morgana, Uther’s daughter.  Who are you?  You’re new, right?”

The young man managed to get himself, his guitar and an oversized rucksack inside before the door started to swing closed on him.  Then he dumped it all on the floor and smiled at Morgana.  It was a smile to melt hearts.  Arthur could feel his going.

“Yeah, I’m Merlin. I’m supposed to report to a George Smart.” He looked across at Arthur.  “Is that you?”

Morgana let out a rather unpleasant laugh at just the same time as Arthur indignantly told Merlin that no he certainly was not.

“This is my brother Arthur,” Morgana explained. “And you’re just in time to see him do something strange and unusual!”

Merlin looked at Arthur expectantly, which just proved that he was an idiot.  An extremely cute idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.

“Ignore my sister,” Arthur advised. “She thinks she’s funny.”

“I have a sister like that,” Merlin grinned sympathetically.

Morgana gave a little snort but mercifully didn’t decapitate Merlin or anything.  That would have been a waste.

“So,” Merlin continued happily. “Is your other brother here?”

“Our other brother?” Arthur asked, puzzled.

“Yes, the one with the funny name.”

Arthur bristled at that.  “I hardly think someone called Merlin is in any position to criticise anyone else’s name!”

Merlin took a nervous step back.  “Oh, sorry.  I didn’t think.  I suppose he’s sensitive about it?  I heard he’s really shy and didn’t want to do the duet, which is why I’m here.  I’m going to be singing his part. I’d _really_ like to meet him, it’ll help me focus. Is he around?” 

“Yes!” Arthur snapped.  “I am.  And I go by the name _Arthur_ and I’ll thank you to remember that in future!”

With that he turned and stomped back up the stairs.  He heard Merlin calling him back with some apology or other but Arthur wasn’t in the mood to listen.  He headed into his rooms and slammed the door behind him.

Belatedly he realised that he was still holding the dirty crockery.  He dumped it on the nearest flat surface.  The maid could clear it up later.

Merlin had been a little overawed at first, getting a job with the legendary Uther Pendragon.  He might even have done a little happy dance when he got the news.  In the privacy of his own bedroom, of course.  Then he’d touched up his eyeliner, checked his nails for any chips on the black varnish, practiced looking suitably sulky in the mirror a few times and finally headed downstairs.  Because his mum had called him twice for dinner and he preferred his cooked food to still be hot when he ate it.

“Uther Pendragon,” his father had grumbled when he heard the news.  “Seriously? That old charlatan of all people?  What are you taking a job with _him_ for, boy?”

“Because it pays well, and because he’s a pretty big name, Dad,” Merlin replied, reaching over to take the gravy jug. “It’s a good opportunity.”

“You could’ve joined _Emrys_.  We’re touring again.”

His father’s band were touring very small venues that were unlikely to be even close to sold out.  But Merlin didn’t have the heart to point that out to Balinor. Comparisons could be odious.

“Maybe next time,” he said. “Mmm, this smells really great, Mum! You’re so good to us!”

The distracting praise worked exactly as well as he’d hoped it would.  His mother beamed at him and when his father opened his mouth to complain some more she just raised a finger.  Balinor duly shut up.

Hunith Emrys ruled their household and everyone knew it.

“Do you think you’ll see Morgana Pendragon?” Merlin’s little sister Freya piped up.  “She’s beautiful! I love her clothes!”

Merlin smiled fondly at her. “I don’t know.  But if I do, and she’s nice, I’ll tell her you’re a big fan.”

Freya gave a squeal and clapped her hands together excitedly.  In the corner their baby sister started to wake up at all the noise.  Merlin knew that any second the wailing would start.  There was a reason he was quite keen to make money and leave home.  But Freya seemed to have forgotten, and wasn’t being quiet at all. 

“Oh! You’re so lucky! Merlin, maybe she’ll meet you and fall in love with you and you can marry her and then she’ll be my friend and… oh!  It’ll be brilliant!”

“He’s gay, remember?” Freya’s twin brother Mordred mumbled sulkily from the other side of the table.  He didn’t look up, and Merlin didn’t think his lips had moved when he spoke.  But it was hard to tell because Mordred’s pale face was always mostly hidden behind an overlong greasy black fringe or his phone.  Or, usually, both.

“Did Dracula just speak?” Balinor asked.  “Were we just honoured with actual words? At the table?”

Mordred scowled at that but didn’t reply.

“Darling, leave him alone,” Hunith urged. “You’re just finding your way, aren’t you Sweetheart?”

“Well he’ll have trouble doing that if he doesn’t cut that fringe!” Balinor pointed out, laughing at his own joke. 

Merlin tried to give Mordred a sympathetic smile, but his younger brother was moping over his phone and not looking at anyone.  Merlin could see him tapping out a tweet describing the woe he was feeling at having to listen to their father’s humour.

“But you might meet Morgana!” Freya continued.  “Take a picture if you do!  I want to see what she’s wearing? Can I come with you?  I’ll be really quiet!”

Merlin couldn’t imagine Uther would be very impressed if he turned up with a sixteen year old in tow.  One who despite her claims otherwise would doubtless squeal loudly if she ran into Morgana Pendragon. “I’m new, Frey.  And she might not be there when I go.  Doesn’t she have her own fashion house or something?”

“Yes!  It’s amazing!  Merlin, ask her if she wants an apprentice or something!”

“Darling, you’re too young,” Hunith told her gently.  “Now eat your dinner and stop bothering your brother.”

Freya obeyed, at least for the time being. It wasn’t going to stop, Merlin knew.  Much as he loved his family, one of the many reasons he had tried to get the job with Uther was the opportunity to earn some money so that eventually he could get a place of his own.  Even if it was just a rented room somewhere.  A place where he could go and close the door behind him when he got home and just relax with nobody disturbing him.  A place without a crying baby, although Sabrina seemed to have settled down for the night just for once.

“I’ll ask her if she’ll sign a photo for you or something,” he promised.  Because Freya was his sister and could always wrap him around her little finger.  “If I see her, and if she’s friendly.”

Freya had beamed at him adoringly.  “You’re my favourite brother!” she assured him.

Luckily whatever it was that Mordred mumbled in reply was mostly inaudible because right then the baby started crying loudly.  And from the pointed looks that Merlin was getting from their father, it seemed that in their mutual dislike of Merlin’s new job Balinor and Mordred Emrys had finally found something they might be able to bond over.

Three days later, though, standing in the hallway of Uther Pendragon’s palatial home having just offended his new employer’s son, Merlin was wondering if he’d made the right decision.  He looked up at the door Arthur had just slammed behind him, then at Morgana who was frowning at the closed door.

Morgana seemed friendly enough.  He wondered whether he dared ask for an autograph for Freya.  Maybe not just yet.

“Sorry,” he offered. “I thought you said he was called Arthur.  How was I to know?”

Morgana shrugged, and turned away from the stairs.  “Don’t worry about my brother, he’s charming to everyone.  I should have introduced him as Cat like Uther always does.” She smiled smugly. “He _loves_ that.”

Merlin gave a nervous laugh, not entirely sure that Arthur wouldn’t still be able to hear them.  He’d already got off on the wrong foot, and he was only there because he was singing what should be Arthur’s part on Uther’s new song.  All he needed was for Arthur to tell his father that the new session singer wasn’t right and Merlin was quite sure he’d be removed before he’d even had a chance to sing.

“Please don’t wind him up around me,” Merlin sighed.  “I really need this job.  Your father won’t be too happy that I’ve upset his son.”

“Oh, don’t worry about Arthur.  He never speaks to Uther if he can help it.  Uther always has these mad ideas about getting us both involved in anything he does.  He thinks we’ll keep him relevant.  With Arthur coming out, Uther’s desperate to cash in… oh, don’t look so horrified.  Of course he cares as well but he’s combining it with a chance to be cool.  Or Uther’s version of cool, anyway.  Which is pretty sad really.”

“He’s an icon,” Merlin attempted.  There could be anyone at all listening to their conversation. For all he knew the place was bugged and Morgana was a trap for the unwary.  Uther Pendragon, or more likely his private security team, could appear at any moment to escort Merlin and his unwelcome opinions from the premises.  “He’s amazing!”

“Oh my god you’re a fanboy,” Morgana groaned. 

Merlin didn’t know what to say. He quite liked Uther’s music but he was hardly a fan.  He’d downloaded maybe twenty of Uther’s songs in his whole life and nearly all of those were in the past week since learning that he’d be working for the man.  But how to say that without risking his job? “I really need this job,” Merlin repeated in the end, looking at her pleadingly.  “He’s effectively my boss.”

Morgana regarded him for a moment, then gave a little sigh.  “Okay, fair enough. But you know he can’t hear you here?”

Damn, she could obviously read minds or something.  Merlin hoped she couldn’t tell what he’d been thinking about her brother.  “Can’t be too careful.  And your father _has_ had a very long and successful career.  Any musician who says they don’t admire him to some degree isn’t being entirely honest.”

Morgana snorted at that, but she was smiling and that had to be a good thing.  “Let’s see if you’re still admiring him after you’ve been working with him for a while!  He’s scared off a lot of session singers in his time.”

“I’m difficult to scare!” 

It wasn’t entirely true but it seemed to win Morgana’s approval.  She took his arm, which was a little awkward with the guitar slung over his shoulder.  He prayed it didn’t swing round and bash her on the head or something.

“Ah, I’m sure I’m going to like you Merlin.  And really don’t take any notice of Arthur.  You probably won’t see him again, he hates the whole showbiz thing and won’t come anywhere near Uther’s studio.  And if he gives you any trouble then just come to me.  Uther too.”

Merlin smiled at that.  It reminded him of the situation at home.  “My mother rules our house,” he told her.

“As it should be!” Morgana started to lead him through the house.  “I’m all for girl power.  Now, it’s a bit of a maze here because Uther keeps remodelling the place and the only way to fit with the listed building regulations was to add in corridors that don’t detract from the original style.  Of course, Uther’s got around it by building an entire underground complex, and that’s where the studio is. I’ll show you the way because you’ll never find it on your own.”

Morgana wasn’t kidding.  Merlin didn’t think he’d ever find his way back once they descended into the basement.  It was like a whole other world down there.  They passed an empty gym, and then an underground swimming pool, immaculate and vacant. 

“Oh, I love swimming,” Merlin exclaimed, looking longingly at the clear water through the windows in the corridor wall.  “Having your own pool must be great!”

“It’s for pool parties,” Morgana explained.  “And the glossies like it as a photoshoot setting.  I’d never use it, the chlorine ruins your hair.  Arthur and his friends use it sometimes.”

Merlin gave the pool one last wistful glance as they left it behind.  It seemed a terrible waste for it to just sit there, virtually unused.  But then, that was probably what it was like to be ridiculously wealthy, he realised.  If his parents had done better in their own music careers then perhaps he would have lived somewhere like this.  Perhaps he and Arthur would have been friends?  Not much chance of that now, he thought ruefully.  Which was a great pity because Arthur was possibly one of the most gorgeous men he’d ever seen.  Still, perhaps he’d come along and use the pool when Merlin was next passing.  That would be worth seeing. 

“Merlin!”

Merlin suddenly realised that he’d been started to daydream about blond Adonis-like creatures and water.  Pleasant as it was he pulled his attention back to his companion.  Freya would not be happy with him if he offended her idol.

“Sorry.”

“I don’t have high hopes that you’re going to remember the way back,” Morgana sighed.  “Everyone gets lost the first couple of times.  Ask Gwaine… no, don’t ask Gwaine. Ask Lance, he’ll show you without trying it on as well.”

Lance and Gwaine… those were the two gorgeous blokes from Uther’s backing band.  Merlin just might have had a picture of Gwaine drumming, shirtless, on his wall at home.  So Gwaine could try it on as much as he liked.  Lance too.

“And stop smiling.  Trust me, you don’t want to be another notch on Gwaine’s bedpost, it won’t help you get more work here.”

That was disappointing. Merlin wondered whether being a notch on Arthur’s bedpost would have the same detrimental effect.  Probably.  He was Uther’s son, after all.  He probably had groupies lining up.  Not that Merlin was a groupie. 

“Okay, I promise.”

“Wise move.  Oh, avoid Cenred too.  At least Gwaine will probably let you down fairly gently.  And _probably_ won’t give you any nasty diseases.”

The _probably_ was a little ominous.  “Is anyone safe?” Merlin wondered.

“Well, there’s always Arthur,” Morgana assured him.  “He’s safer than a very safe thing!”

“And he already hates me,” Merlin pointed out sadly.

“He’ll get over it,” Morgana gave his arm a friendly squeeze, her face taking on a far too pleasantly enquiring expression.  Merlin had siblings.  He knew that look.  “Interested, are you?”

“Not as much as you seem to be,” Merlin retorted.  “You don’t even know me and you’re already trying to pimp your poor brother.  I might be the worst person ever!”

“Ah, Merlin, Merlin… I am an _excellent_ judge of character.  And anyway, Arthur has already met the worst person ever, slept with him and got his butt plastered across all the trashiest papers for his trouble.  You can only be a step up.  Besides, I have ulterior motives for wanting you to stick around.  I have designs on your body!”

Okay, Morgana was insane.  They did say that about geniuses.  “I’m gay…”

She laughed, which was more of a cackle and did absolutely nothing to dissuade him of the insane assumption.  “Oh Merlin, you are _adorable_!  Not those sorts of designs you fool.  Actual designs.  You would be perfect as the male model for the new range I’ve got coming out.  Tell me, have you ever done any modelling?”

By the time Merlin had reached the studio his mind was reeling.  In the space of what couldn’t be more than ten minutes he had managed to insult his boss’s son, get completely disorientated by the interior of said new boss’s house, become new best friends (according to Morgana) with his boss’s daughter, and tentatively agree to a spot of modelling on the side.  And this was all before he got to work with one of the greatest music legends _ever._   It was turning into quite a day.

There were so many twists and turns though.  Apparently you couldn’t knock down walls within a listed building, not even in the basement.  Uther had made a pretty good stab at remodelling the place though, and the end result was a bit of a maze with countless rooms leading off from the corridor.

“I’m never going to find my way out,” Merlin complained.  “Maybe you could paint in coloured lines on the walls, like on the underground?”

“Oh you’ll get used to it,” Morgana assured him.  “It’s just one long corridor really.  Besides, like I said, Lance will show you out if you ask.”

Merlin wasn’t convinced.  “Please tell me there’s a loo near the studio?”

“No, that’s back up on the ground floor,” Morgana told him deadpan.  He must have looked horrified because she burst out laughing.  “Oh, your face!  No, there’s one next door.  Don’t worry, Gwaine’s come in hungover or even drunk enough times that Uther would never consider not having one nearby.  You’ll be fine.  Besides” – she stopped at the smoky glass entrance doors to the studio and let go of him – “you’re on my books now, so just call me if you have any problems.”

Merlin didn’t have the nerve to say that he’d only tentatively agreed to the modelling.  Morgana probably didn’t do tentative agreements.  She didn’t seem like that sort of person.  Besides, Freya would kill him if he didn’t take up the opportunity.

“Um… I don’t have your number…” he began, but Morgana’s hand was already out.

“Phone.”

Okay, Freya was going to die of happiness if her brother had her heroine’s number. Merlin obediently unlocked his phone and handed it over.  Morgana tapped at it for a few moments and then her own phone bleeped for attention in her jeans pocket.  (How there was room for a phone in there was anyone’s guess.  They looked sprayed on.)

“Great, now I have your number and we can arrange that shoot!”

“I’ve never actually done any modelling,” Merlin began but Morgana just waved his protests away. 

“No matter.  You’ve got the perfect look for a few pieces in my new range.  All lines and angles… and that lean and hungry look but not too much so.  Perfect.  So don’t let them mess about too much with your look if you have to do any publicity for this song.”

The song.  With Uther Pendragon.  Who was doubtless standing behind those smoky glass doors somewhere wondering why a lowly session singer was daring to be late.  Merlin wasn’t actually late (yet), but the unexpected delay made it feel as if he was. 

“I really don’t think I’d be a good model,” he attempted again, but Morgana wasn’t listening. 

“I’ll call you later and let you know time and location.  Now,” – she pushed open the door – “into the lion’s den with you!”

It did feel a bit like that as Merlin followed Morgana inside. 

The studio was spacious and modern… and painted entirely in black.  Admittedly that was Uther’s trademark colour as well as Merlin’s clothing colour of choice but still it was a bit oppressive.  The décor was broken up very slightly by a long row of album covers all along the far wall but as those were predominantly black as well it wasn’t a particularly striking contrast.  Plus the lights were all on full brightness anyway which rendered the darkness of the décor somewhat redundant.  It also meant that Merlin had absolutely nowhere to hide when he stepped into the studio and almost every person in that room turned to look at him.

There were a few people he’d never seen before, most likely Uther’s studio technicians.  And there was the backing band who were as far as Merlin knew still called the Pendragons although Uther had long since been considered a solo artist.  Cenred and Lance and Gwaine.  All of them dark-haired and handsome.  Gwaine was blatantly looking him up and down… actually so was Cenred. 

But none of them held Merlin’s attention.  That was reserved for the two people who had not looked up when Merlin came in – Gaius Jones the famous record producer and also Uther’s personal manager, and of course Uther Pendragon himself.  They were both engrossed in a discussion about something they were listening to over a shared headset. 

“It sounds perfectly fine to me,” Uther was saying loudly.  Doubtless the headphones were making him believe he spoke quieter than he actually did. 

“Well perhaps if you’d used ear protection over the years you wouldn’t have lost your edge!  That line is off-key.  We’re doing it again.”

“It’s character!”

“It’s flat!”

“I’m The King…”

“And I’m Gaius Jones.  If we’re done with the introductions, perhaps you could go back to the start and do the track again?   Or we could stand here and argue all day.”

Uther looked mildly annoyed, but removed the headset and turned away from Gaius.  Which placed his gaze squarely on Merlin.  His frown deepened.  “You must be the singer. You’re late.”

Merlin opened his mouth but the sound that came out wasn’t anything that passed for speech.  Worse, Gaius had turned to look at him as well, and was raising an imperious eyebrow in his direction.  Merlin had heard about that.  Gaius had a disapproving look that could quell the most persistent of interviewers.  Small wonder that Uther kept him close.

“Be nice, he’s an absolute dear and he’s agreed to model my new line!” Morgana ordered.  “Merlin, if my father or any of the others aren’t utterly lovely to you, you just call me and I’ll come down to sort them out.”  She glared around the room.  “I’ll be just upstairs.  No upsetting my new protégé!  Especially not you, father!”

Uther managed to smile at his daughter. It lasted exactly as long as it took for Morgana to give them all one last warning stare and then leave.  At that point his frown reappeared. 

Gaius gave a heavy sigh.  “Mr Emrys I assume?”

“Yes,” Merlin managed in a small voice. 

Uther was still frowning at him.

“I… was told to be here at two,” Merlin continued.  “It’s just before two now.”

“George sent a message,” Uther boomed.  “We moved to noon.”

“I… didn’t get it,” Merlin stammered.  Damn, Uther was intimidating.  “I would have been here.”

Uther harrumphed, favoured him with another glare, then turned to Gaius.  “Is this the best you could do?”

“Arthur won’t be singing, Uther,” Gaius told him.  “Bullying the session singer won’t change that fact.  Get over it or I’ll accidently book you into another interview with Nimueh Lake.  You know how well that went last time!”

Not very well, judging by the look on Uther’s face.  But it was Gaius who appeared to be the real power in that room.  Merlin attempted a smile, hopefully. Gaius rolled his eyes in Uther’s vague direction, and beckoned to Merlin. 

“Put your things in the corner.  We only need a singer today,” he told Merlin kindly.  “Now you’ll be doing some backing vocals to get warmed up, then I want you and Uther to run through the duet, see how it sounds.  Your audition was good, but I need to hear you both together.”

Merlin knew that what Gaius wasn’t saying was that if his voice didn’t gel with Uther’s then the job was over before it began. That was a scenario to be avoided at all costs.  He had no idea how keen or otherwise Gaius was on having him as the singer.  The audition had been done in a studio in the city with Gaius and whoever else was judging him hidden behind mirrored glass.  For all he knew Gaius could have another singer all ready to step in and take his place. 

By the sounds of it Uther definitely did and that singer would be his reluctant son Arthur.  Arthur, whom Merlin had already managed to rub up the wrong way.  Uther was not going to be happy when he found out about that.

“I’m ready.”

Uther groaned.  “Gaius, he’s just an amateur.”

“Which fits with the image we’re projecting for the song.  Merlin, I hope you’ve taken the time to familiarise yourself with the song you’ll be singing?”

Merlin nodded.  He risked a glance at Uther but the great man had already turned away to concentrate on the track he was listening to on the headset again. 

“Good.  Go and listen to the tracks we’ve already started on.  I’d like you to try some harmony over the chorus of _Running from Love_ first.  No pressure, that’s just the warm-up, then we’ll get onto _Father and Son_.”

Cenred took a step forward, but Gwaine was faster. 

“I’ll show you the ropes,” the handsome drummer promised.  “Don’t worry about Uther, he loves being grumpy, thinks it comes with the rock star territory.”

“I can hear you, Greene,” Uther growled.  “Don’t think you can’t be replaced.”

Gwaine didn’t seem too bothered.  Probably because both him and his bare-chested drumming style had their own quite substantial fan following, and also probably because he knew he was the best damned drummer Uther had ever got.  He smirked, and draped an arm round Merlin’s shoulders, guiding him over to the corner.  For a moment Merlin forgot why, then remembered that Gaius had told him to leave his things there.

“You just stick with me, Merlin, I’ll look after you.”  And then he gave a cheeky wink, leaving Merlin in absolutely no doubt what he meant.  Vaguely Merlin recalled Morgana’s words of warning.  But Gwaine was even more handsome in person than he was in the poster on Merlin’s wall.  His eyes were dark and sparking with mischief.  Behind him, Cenred was glowering sulkily. 

“Leave him alone, Gwaine,” Gaius called.  “Remember the rules.”

Gwaine scowled, then called back over his shoulder.  “Just being helpful!” But he did at least take a step or two back so that he was no longer all over Merlin. 

“What rules?” Merlin asked as he dumped his guitar and bag in the corner of the room. 

Gwaine shrugged.  “Cenred got into some trouble.  Bit of blackmail.  Now we’re not allowed to fraternise with any of the session musicians that come in.  Still, you won’t be a session singer forever, right?”

“I won’t be one at all if I don’t impress Uther soon,” Merlin admitted.  “I think my dad must’ve been the one who got the message about the rescheduling.  He isn’t a fan and doesn’t want me taking this job.”

“Ah, I’m always late,” Gwaine reassured him.  “I’m still here! His bark’s worse than his bite, honest!”

“Do hurry up, Merlin!” Gaius called.

Merlin quickly dropped his bag on the floor next to his guitar case, and hurried back over to Gaius.  “Sorry, Sir.”

Gaius raised an eyebrow at the ‘Sir’ but didn’t comment. 

Gaius, it turned out, wasn’t actually all that intimidating after all.  He was a grumpy individual, of that there was no question.  But much of that grumpiness did seem to be directed at Uther and the band.  Specifically Gwaine and Cenred.  Lance didn’t receive any grumbles at all.  But then he did exactly what Gaius asked all the time.  Merlin tried very hard to follow his example.  After all, it was _Gaius_.  He was as much of a legend as Uther himself.  Plus he might be looking for a new protégé.

Initially though, Merlin’s plans all went to hell in a handcart.  Somehow in his nervousness he managed to open the wrong page on the song sheets he’d been given and totally missed his cue.

Gaius frowned.  Uther looked to the heavens.  Gwaine winked at Merlin.

“I do that all the time!”

Somehow that wasn’t entirely reassuring.  Quietly Lance came over and helped him onto the correct page.

“Easily done,” Lance told him reassuringly.  “Let’s try again.”

So they did, and this time Merlin made sure that he was right on cue and pitch perfect. 

“Better,” Gaius commented when they’d finished the track.  “Okay, let’s do a first run-through on our key piece.  I want to try a few things on it.  Traditionally there’s only harmony on the chorus on this song, but I’d like to try a proper duet.  If you study the lyrics you’ll see there’s a definite divide between the father’s lyrics and the son’s.”

Merlin nodded seriously, hoping someone was going to point out which were which because he really didn’t fancy accidentally singing over Uther’s part.  He glanced hopefully at Lance again, who grinned at him and came over to flip the pages again.

“Not doing this every time, mate,” Lance warned.

“Yeah, don’t turn into a prima donna like the queen,” Gwaine added.

Uther glared at him but Gwaine pretended not to notice.  It was, Merlin thought, very lucky for Gwaine that Uther was only the king of rock and roll because if he’d been the actual king that he’d named himself after then Gwaine would probably end up in the stocks or worse.

“I’ll get the hang of it soon,” Merlin promised.  He was hugely relieved to see that the parts were indeed marked out, for Uther at least.  The other parts were marked for someone else.

“Err… do I sing the bits marked Cat?” Merlin asked.  “Or is Arthur joining us?”

He wasn’t sure whether that would be a good thing or not.  Arthur had been very grumpy earlier (obviously got that from his father) and Merlin didn’t fancy trying a duet with him.  At least, not until they’d met again properly and Merlin could try to clear the air.  Though Arthur was probably just as rich and spoiled as his father and would turn out to be awful anyway.  At least Morgana was nice.  Freya would be pleased.

“ _Cat_ will not be joining us,” Uther informed him.  “Very unappreciative after I’m dedicating the entirety of this album to his coming out.”

“You’ll sing the parts marked Cat,” Gaius clarified.

Okay, that all made sense.  “Perhaps Arthur’s just finding his way,” Merlin offered.  “It must have been horrible being spread across the papers like that.  Those pictures…”

There had been the one picture in particular of Arthur’s arse that had been all over the papers.  Merlin recalled it clearly.  It was perfection.  It might have featured in his dreams that night.  Unfortunately it had been a photo from the rear so Merlin hadn’t seen Arthur’s face.  If he had then he would have recognised Arthur and might have managed to not say the wrong thing when they met.

“He was really upset,” Lance agreed.  “He’s a really great lad, didn’t deserve that.”

“I’ll punch Cedric’s lights out if I ever see him again,” Gwaine agreed.  “Nobody messes with our Arthur.”

“Already done,” Cenred growled. “Little shit tried blackmailing me first.”

“Yeah, because you can’t keep it in your pants,” Lance sighed.  “Besides, it’s not even the worst publicity you’ve ever had.  Whereas Arthur’s pretty blameless, and he doesn’t choose to be part of any of this life.  He was just looking for a boyfriend.”

“ _Cat_ could have any career he chooses,” Uther put in impatiently.  “I don’t understand why he won’t follow the rest of the family and go into music or fashion.  He could do either, I’d open doors.  This business manager nonsense sounds incredibly boring.  I’d slit my wrists at the end of the first day!”

“He wants his independence,” Gaius reminded Uther.  “And you’re a good father for allowing him that freedom.  Now” – Gaius turned his back on Uther and actually rolled his eyes at Merlin who had to stifle a giggle – “shall we get on?  Five verses, Merlin you’ll sing three and five.  Uther, you’re addressing Merlin.  Merlin, you’re very much turning away and rejecting what he has to say.”

Merlin was reading through the lyrics as Gaius spoke.  He knew the song, of course.  It had been covered several times by other acts over the years including a massive hit at one point for a boy band.  It was unusual for Uther to record anything that wasn’t a Gaius/Uther original work, but this was clearly the exception.  Still, it seemed that Gaius was determined to make it sound as unique as possible.

“Plaintive and whining,” Uther added.  “Can you do that?”  He looked around at his band and Cenred laughed on cue.  Obvious creeping up to the boss was how the man managed to retain his job.  Merlin decided that he definitely liked Lance and Gwaine better.  And Gaius too, of course.  Gaius clearly took no shit from anyone, including Uther.

Uther stepped up to the largest of the microphones.  It actually had a little crown on it.  Merlin bit back a snort of laughter at that, figuring he probably already wasn’t Uther’s favourite person anyway and would do better not to aggravate him any further.  But unfortunately Gwaine immediately caught Merlin’s eye and mouthed, “He’s The King!” at him.  Merlin couldn’t help himself.

“Something amusing?” Uther asked imperiously. 

Merlin desperately tried to change his expression to something neutral and respectful.  This man could make or break his career after all.

“Nerves,” Merlin attempted.  Luckily it worked and Uther turned his attention to the music sheets.  He read them through thoughtfully, then held out his right hand.

Immediately a man Merlin hadn’t even noticed was there ran forward with a glass of water.  At least, Merlin supposed that it was water.  It was clear and had ice and a slice, and Uther downed it rapidly.

The man took the glass and ran back to the side of the room where he must have been standing before.  His dark clothes blended in with the wall very well.

“Don’t expect your own personal George just yet,” Gwaine told Merlin.  “If any of the rest of us want a drink, the kitchen’s just through there.”  He pointed to a door just past where George was standing. 

Merlin’s mouth was a little dry with nerves, and he wouldn’t have minded a drink.  But Gaius was looking impatiently at the clock.

“Let’s get on with it!” Gaius insisted.  “Uther, you’re on.”

To be fair, Uther was pretty amazing.  The man had a great voice, rich and penetrating, all that great reputation and fame well-deserved.  And whatever Uther might have thought of Merlin, as soon as Uther started singing he kept his full attention on his ‘son’.  Merlin felt as if the legend was singing just to him… and was so in awe that he would have missed his cue if Gwaine hadn’t reached out and jabbed him in the back with a pair of drumsticks then tapped the music.  Unfortunately Merlin let out a little yelp of surprise which he tried desperately to turn into the first line of his part of the song.

“ _Ow!_ do I try to explain…”

Uther frowned, but let Merlin continue.  The frown faded gradually into something that might have been approval as Merlin carried on singing, but mostly seemed neutral.

“… cause when I do he turns away again  
It's always been the same, same old story  
From the moment I could talk I was ordered to listen  
Now there's a way and I know that I have to go away  
I know I have to go.”

Uther came in right on cue for his verse that followed, and then Merlin was ready to sing the final part.  It earned him a nod of approval from Gaius and a thumbs up from Gwaine.  But not until Merlin had finished the final line did Uther react at all.

“You have a good voice,” Uther told Merlin.  “Very good.”

“Your voices work well together,” Lance agreed.  “Good choice, Gaius.”

Gaius just sniffed, as if to indicate that went without saying.

“Now,” Uther cried enthusiastically.  “We go again, this time without the yelp.  You’re playing Cat on this and I don’t want people thinking I beat my boy or something!”

Cenred laughed.  Cenred was, Merlin thought, a bit of a crawler.  But it might be the correct attitude if you were expendable and wanted to keep your job.  So Merlin smiled, cleared his throat, and prepared to sing again.

  

By early evening Merlin was half sick of the song.  On Gaius’ insistence they’d gone over it again and again until Gaius was satisfied.  Merlin and Uther had both tried singing the entire song individually, they’d harmonised with first Uther and then Merlin singing the main song, but mostly they’d sung their individual parts.  Gaius had it all recorded and was going to pull it all together with the instrumentals that the rest of the band had laid down already.

Finally Gaius declared himself satisfied and called an end to recordings for the day so that he could get started on mixing.

“Be here by ten sharp tomorrow,” Gaius warned Merlin.  “I want to work with you before Uther gets in.”

“Ten?” Gwaine yelped.  “That’s only Merlin, right?  Noon today was bad enough!”

“And you were late,” Gaius pointed out, raising one of those fearsome eyebrows.  Gwaine did quail just a little.  “So _you_ can make up for that by getting here for eleven tomorrow.”

“That’s the middle of the night!” Gwaine whined.

“Ten’s fine for me,” Merlin assured Gaius quickly.  “I’m really sorry I was late today, I’m sure it was my dad who didn’t pass on the message.”  He turned to look at George who was still hovering quietly in the shadows, ready to dash to Uther’s side the second he was needed.  “I’ll give you my mobile and email, but if you ever have to call the house again just make sure it’s not my dad who you speak to.”

“Oh don’t worry about that,” Uther had produced a CD from somewhere (probably George).  “Here, I’ll sign this to him, thank him for lending me his son.  It’s one of my Greatest Hits albums, everyone loves it.”

Merlin was fairly certain that his father would definitely _not_ love it, but was sensible enough not to tell Uther this.

“So what’s your father’s name?” Uther asked, picking up a pen.

“Balinor Emrys.”

Uther froze, the smile fading from his face.  George raced forward to take the CD from him but Uther didn’t even notice, jabbing the CD case in Merlin’s direction.

“ _Balinor_ Emrys?  Balinor Emrys is your father?”

“Um… yes.”

“That tone-deaf old charlatan?  God, I _knew_ you reminded me of someone.  Lucky you’ve got your mother’s singing talents.  Balinor… Jesus…  Gaius, did you know about this?”

Gaius just shrugged.  “I did wonder when I saw the name. But I hired him on his own merits.”

“Well this Balinor bloke won’t be wanting that CD!” Gwaine laughed.  “Is it already signed?  I’ll take it off your hands.”

Uther looked down at the CD, then a slow smile made its way across his face.  “Oh no, you already sell enough of these so-called collector’s items Gwaine. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.  No, this is a perfect gift for my dear old mucker!  He’ll love to be reminded of all the hits I’ve had since he stomped out in a huff to branch out on his own.  You know he was one of the original band, when we were all called The Dragons, right?”

Merlin hadn’t ever been told that particular nugget.  He knew his father hated Uther with a fiery vengeance but had always assumed that it was professional rivalry (jealousy, really) and a dislike for any music that didn’t feature lots of tinkling bells and tambourines.

“Um… no.”

“No?  Seriously?  Merlin, your father still gets royalties from the first two albums.  He co-wrote _Dragonlord_ with me and played lead guitar on it too.  That album… the title track alone has probably kept you fed and watered most of your life!  Really?  He never mentioned it?  Merlin, Merlin, Merlin…”

Merlin (in triplicate) found the king of rock and roll’s arm suddenly draped around his shoulders.  He supposed it was probably a good thing given that Uther had not appeared to warm to him at first.  Suddenly they seemed to have become best friends. 

“You obviously need to hear the whole story.  You’ll stay for dinner, you’ve already met Morgana and she seems to like you.”

“Don’t forget to mention to Morgana how nice we all were to you,” Gwaine put in. 

“Yes, good point,” Uther agreed.  “Do that.”

“Are you _all_ scared of her?” Merlin asked.

There was a general chorus of ‘Yes’ from everyone in the room, including Uther.  Merlin suddenly decided that he definitely would be doing that modelling job and was going to be very, _very_ good friends with Morgana. 

“You can meet Cat as well.  He’s the basis for this entire album so it would be good for you to get to know him.”

Oh dear.  Merlin shifted a little uncomfortably.  “Um… I did run into Arthur earlier.  I didn’t realise he and Cat were the same person and I think I might have offended him.  I didn’t mean to.”

“Ah well, I’m always offending him, you can join the club!” Uther assured him cheerfully.  “Don’t take any notice, he’s just going through his teenage angst years a bit late.  George!  Sort out an extra place for dinner!”

Merlin started to feel a little sorry for Arthur.  But he wasn’t going to pass up a free meal with Uther and co.  And perhaps he’d be able to build some bridges with Arthur along the way.  He plastered on as sincere a smile as he could manage, and let himself be led back up into the main part of the house.  At least it solved the problem of finding his way back upstairs.

Dinner at Uther’s wasn’t so very different from dinner at home.

Admittedly the room was bigger and the table far grander, and there were actual servants on hand to wait on them hand and foot.  And there was a menu to pick from as well.  But aside from all that there were still a group of people around the table bickering with each other.  Uther sat at the head of the table and insisted Merlin sit next to him.  This meant that Morgana sat on the other side of Merlin and while they were waiting for dinner she started showing him all the designs that she intended making him wear. It wasn’t unlike Freya’s attempts at drawing different styles, although far more successful. Cenred had taken root at the far end of the table, sullen and brooding much like Merlin’s little brother Mordred. 

Gaius had stayed down in the studio, claiming he wanted peace and quiet to concentrate on pulling the tracks together.  Gwaine and Lance sat halfway down, mostly talking to each other.  And eventually Arthur turned up. 

“Cat!  Finally!” Uther exclaimed. 

Merlin was sure Arthur actually cringed a little at the name. 

“Come over here and meet Merlin, he’s singing your part on the album!” Uther patted the seat next to him, which would put him opposite Merlin.  “You’ll like him, he’s gay too!”

Arthur gazed at Uther in horror for a moment.  Merlin wondered if the expression was reflected on his own face.

“We’ve already met,” Arthur said shortly.  He took the seat opposite Merlin as requested, and sat down.  He looked to his right, at Gwaine and Lance, but they were having their own conversation which mostly seemed to involve a lot of talking from Gwaine and a lot of head-shaking from Lance.  Merlin thought that Arthur looked a little disappointed.

“Ah yes, Merlin mentioned that he thought he’d upset you,” Uther told Arthur far too cheerfully.  Merlin winced as Arthur glanced over at him.  “I told him not to worry.”

“Sorry,” Merlin said, spreading his hands to indicate his own hopelessness.  “Honestly, if there was an Olympic medal for opening your mouth and saying the wrong thing I’d be coming home with gold.”

Arthur nodded a little uncomfortably.  Merlin noticed that he kept glancing worriedly at Uther, and wondered why.  Merlin was a little wary himself after Uther had asked him all sorts of personal questions on the way up to dinner. It could well be that Arthur was just concerned about what the man might come out with next. 

As it turned out, if that was the case then Arthur was right to be worried.

“Merlin’s single, Cat.  You know, it would be _amazing_ publicity for the album if the two of you were seen out on the town together.”

Yes, Uther was actually trying to pimp out his son.  Merlin was sure that Arthur had paled a little.  Morgana made a slightly strangled sound that might have been a laugh, might have been a choke.  Arthur glowered at her momentarily, then at Merlin and finally at Uther.

“Absolutely not!”

“Arthur’s had a really distressing experience with that creep Cedric,” Merlin added.  “It would be very unfair to ask him to spend time with someone he doesn’t know.  For all Arthur knows I could be just as bad.  I’m not, by the way,” he added quickly to Arthur.  “I’d never do something like that.  Not to anyone.”

“Are you saying I’m unfair?” Uther demanded. 

Oops. 

“No!  Absolutely not!” Merlin could see his career dissolving before it even started up.  “I didn’t mean it like that!”

“How _did_ you mean it, Merlin?” Arthur asked in what Merlin could tell was completely fake curiosity.  “Just how did you mean that my father is unfair?  Do tell.” 

Arthur was a little shit who obviously just wanted Merlin to dig himself into an even bigger hole, even though Merlin had been trying to make amends.  Still, if Arthur didn’t want to go down that route, Merlin was quite happy to walk the other road…

Merlin smiled sweetly at him.  “I was trying to be thoughtful towards _you_.  Having your bare arse plastered across the papers like that must have been terrible.  It’s so good of your father to honour you with this album.  I wish mine had been that thoughtful to me when I came out.”

Arthur stared at him.  Merlin could see a tiny tic jumping in the side of Arthur’s neck where he was clenching his teeth so hard.  Also if Arthur gripped that glass he was holding any tighter it would probably shatter.  The man was trying so very hard to appear calm when he obviously would have liked to smack Merlin one.  Merlin almost felt sorry for him.  But Arthur had been rude.

“Excuse me,” Arthur said abruptly, getting to his feet.  “I’m not feeling particularly hungry.  Enjoy your evening Father, Morgana.”  He gave Merlin one last glare, and then abruptly left.

Merlin felt a little bit ashamed of himself.  But he had started off by trying to be nice.  Obviously he and Arthur were destined never to get along.  It was a shame.  Arthur really was beautiful.  Possibly the most gorgeous man Merlin had ever seen.  He could have easily lost himself in those blue eyes. 

“Cat! Cat! Oh for god’s sake… _Arthur!”_ Uther called after him, but Arthur still didn’t turn around.  Uther shook his head and just shrugged at Merlin.  “Ignore him, he’s always doing that.  What were we saying?  Ah yes, your father,” Uther raised his hand and George came running over.  “Find some pictures of the original Dragons.  Footage too.  Merlin needs to see how he’s following in his good old dad’s footsteps.  Oh,” – he picked up the wine bottle in front of him – “I’m not in the mood for red.  Fetch champagne, we should celebrate a successful first day on the album.”

“Your father was one of the Pendragons?” Morgana asked curiously.

“He’s Balinor Emrys!” Uther exclaimed.  “We were just The Dragons then. I haven’t seen him in years.  Honestly, he could give Cat a run for his money in having strops.  We got to the end of the second album and he didn’t agree with me about the musical direction we were going in.  He wanted all this hippy trippy crap mixed in with the rock.  I mean, _tambourines!_   Imagine!  We had a massive argument and I won.  Gaius agreed with me and obviously we were both proved right.  But Balinor stormed out and that was the end of it.  Took your mother with him as well, Merlin.   One of my best backing singers.  She and my wife were great friends, they still kept in touch.  The last I heard of Hunith she was pregnant with her first child.”

“That would be me,” Merlin confirmed.  “There’s also Freya, Mordred and now baby Sabrina too.”

Uther looked slightly puzzled.  “I thought the oldest child was called Gandalf?”

“I’m called Merlin,” Merlin stated quickly.  That was not a conversation he wanted to have.  He’d seen how Uther refused to call Arthur by his preferred name and could well imagine what would happen if Uthur discovered Merlin also had an unfortunate birth name.  Obviously Balinor and Uther must have been soulmates.  Twisted, evil soulmates whose cruelty to their offspring knew no bounds.  “Someone must have been joking with you.”

Uther hummed thoughtfully for a moment, but fortunately one of the staff came over with a large bottle of champagne just then and distracted him.  By the time Uther had toasted them all and sat back down the first course was coming out.  Merlin was relieved, but only for a moment.

“I still think it would be great publicity if you go out with Cat on a couple of dates,” Uther told him. 

“I don’t think Arthur likes me.”

“Nonsense.  Cat likes everyone.  And don’t worry, George will arrange it all.”

Merlin looked desperately to Morgana for help, but she just shrugged and started in on her salad. 

Great. 

Merlin, it seemed, was not going away.

Arthur intended leaving the house early the following morning.  Uther’s entourage never arrived before noon at the earliest so he thought he was perfectly safe heading out to his car at nine-thirty.  But no.  Merlin’s distinctive battered jalopy was crunching its way into a parking space on the gravelled driveway as Arthur approached.  Because that was just Arthur’s luck.  Worse, Merlin emerged from the car before Arthur reached his own, and called out cheerfully to him.

“Hi Arthur!”

“Merlin.”  Arthur kept walking, but unfortunately Merlin didn’t seem to take a hint and hurried after him.

“Wait a minute!”

Arthur gave a weary sigh, and turned to face his father’s latest favourite.  “What do you want?”

Merlin gave him that horrible smile that he had.  The adorable one that made Arthur want to forget how annoying and rude Merlin had been, and how awful the reasons why Merlin was there at all were.  The one that made Arthur melt a little inside and really, _really_ want to stop fighting with Merlin.  It was an evil smile.  Arthur steeled himself to resist.

“I just wanted to say sorry again.  I just seem to be saying the wrong thing to you all the time.”

“You could try just not saying anything,” Arthur suggested.  “That would solve the problem.  I don’t have anything to do with my father’s music, so there’s no reason why our paths will cross.”

“Ah. About that.”

That sounded ominous.  Arthur narrowed his eyes.  “What?  What’s he come up with now?”

Merlin shuffled his feet on the gravel, looking down at the ground before shyly looking back up at Arthur from under his lashes.  Arthur wasn’t quite sure how he managed that as they were the same height, or possibly Merlin was slightly taller.  But it was what Merlin did, and Arthur had that melting feeling inside again. 

“Well, after you left last night he went back to his idea of us… um… publicising the album together.”

“Oh god!  Tell me you didn’t agree to it?”

“Not… exactly.  I did say that I didn’t think you would want to and…”

“You caved, didn’t you Merlin?”

“Well…  I don’t want to offend him.  He’s my boss!  And Morgana wouldn’t help me.”

Arthur could well imagine that Morgana wouldn’t help either of them.  The teasing he would get from her over this was going to be infuriating.  He glared up at her window.  The curtains were still drawn so she was probably still asleep. 

“I bet she wouldn’t.  Was she showing you those designs of hers when I came in because she’s got you modelling them for her?”

“Yes.”

“I knew it! She’ll want this for her publicity as well.  Honestly, my father and my sister are two of a kind. Say you’ve changed your mind and won’t do it.”

“I said I didn’t think you’d want to do it and that I’d only do it if you wanted to.  So it’s probably okay.”  Merlin looked so earnest as he said it that Arthur wanted to laugh.  Merlin had a lot to learn about the Pendragons and their manipulating ways.  “But I think George might be arranging something.”

“I’m sure he is.  Wonderful.”

“Sorry.  Honestly, I’m really great when you get to know me,” Merlin attempted a smile but Arthur determinedly did not return it.  “You just seem to keep bringing out the worst in me.”

“Lucky me,” Arthur droned.  “Well, Merlin, I suggest you find a way to persuade my father and sister that I would not be good publicity for their products and for them to find someone else for you to date.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an interview and don’t want to be late.”

Merlin immediately stepped back.  “Good luck with it,” he offered.

Arthur bit back a retort because the way interviews had been going for him he needed all the luck he could get.  “Thanks.  Enjoy pretending to be me for your singing.”

“I will!”

Arthur hurried over to his car and got in quickly because Merlin was still standing there watching him with a far too endearing little smile on his face.  Hopefully Merlin would be gone by the time Arthur got back. It was only one song.  How long could recording it take?

Arthur’s interview went very badly.

The firm made stationery and novelty gifts.  It was worrying that the logo on the invitation email that he’d been sent was a cat sitting in a teapot.  But he was fairly desperate and would have taken pretty much anything. 

It started off ominously enough when Arthur heard one of his father’s hits being played over the tannoy in the reception area.  That wasn’t so unusual in itself, Uther had pumped out a lot of hit records over the years.  But the man interviewing him had a couple of CDs on his desk and passed them over to Arthur before he’d even sat down.

“Could you get those autographed for me please?  The wife’s a big fan.”

The interviewer wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.  Some people didn’t, but Arthur knew that this was probably going to be another Uther fanboy interview.  Either that or someone who held him in contempt for having a famous singer for a father and was about to turn on him for it.  That had happened once or twice.

“Of course I will.”  Arthur picked up the discs and popped them into the attaché case he’d brought with him.  “What’s her name?”

“Erm… oh, you don’t need to trouble him with that.  Just a signature would be great.  Must be amazing having a father like him.”

“Yes,” Arthur sat down.  It was definitely going to be one of _those_ interviews.  “Truly amazing.”

“I’m surprised you’ve gone into management really.  Wouldn’t you have rather gone into singing like your father?”

“No.  I don’t sing.  Would you like to tell me about the job?”

The man apparently would not.  Arthur had to hear about the Uther concert that his interviewer went to the previous year, and endure a number of questions about the new album that was being recorded. 

“Could you tell me a little about the company?”

“Yes… Oh!  Perhaps your father would like to come in and have a look?  Our Birmingham branch produced the merchandise for one of his early tours.  We still have some of it.”  The man opened up one of the drawers in his desk and started rummaging around then brought out a rather battered-looking coaster with a much younger Uther’s face on it.  “Look!”

Arthur was familiar with his father’s face. 

“Very nice.  Now tell me about this job.”

“Um… I’m just the preliminary interviewer,” the man admitted.  Suddenly everything clicked into place.

“There isn’t a job, is there,” Arthur realised.  “I don’t think you’re even a proper interviewer – you haven’t as much as introduced yourself.”  He leaned forward and picked up one of the business cards that were in a small box on one side of the desk.  “Ms Cassie Boucher… perhaps I’m being discriminatory here but why do I feel this isn’t even your office?”

“We hotdesk,” the man told him.  “Anyway, thank you for coming in, we’ll be in touch.”  He stood up and held out his phone, snapping off a picture.

That was just rude.

“Please delete that,” Arthur sighed wearily, getting to his feet.  “Bear in mind that if you post it then it will be traceable back to you, and when I make a complaint about you to your seniors regarding unprofessional conduct they’ll know exactly who to sack.”

The man’s enthusiastic smile finally faded.  He tucked his phone into his pocket although no move was made to delete the offending photo. 

“I rescued your CV from the recycling bin,” he told Arthur.  “Cassie actually laughed when she read it.  You’re Uther Pendragon’s _son_.  You don’t need to work.  I don’t know why you’re even trying.  You had your arse all across the papers the other week!  Cassie said…”

Arthur held up his hand for the man to stop.  “I really don’t want to know what this Cassie person said about anything.  She sounds as narrow-minded as you are. But I’m not my father and I want my own life and my own career.  I don’t see that there’s anything wrong with that.  But wasting my time bringing me in here and taking photos so that you can splash them all across social media – well there’s plenty wrong with _that._   Here, have these back.”  He took out the CDs and slammed them down on the desk.  “Good day to you!”

With that Arthur stormed out of the office and headed back out through reception, not stopping until he was safely outside and halfway down the road to the carpark.  He was raging inside and knew he had to get as far away from the idiotic pseudo-interviewer as possible in case he ended up punching the man or something.  Because no matter how much the man deserved it, Arthur would come out of that the worst and there would be no chance, ever, of getting a decent job by the time Uther had paid a small fortune for the inevitable assault charges to be dropped.  The tabloids would have a field day.

Sometimes the unfairness of it all was too much.  Arthur had worked hard, he deserved a decent job as much as the next person.  He didn’t want to sponge off his father all his life.  Yes, one day he would inherit half of a vast fortune, but hopefully that wouldn’t be for a very long time, no matter how annoying Uther could be. 

There were just no jobs in the field Arthur wanted.  None that were open to him, anyway.  If he had found it difficult before, the joke of an interview he’d just endured proved that it was all going to be a lot harder now.  No serious company wanted to take on someone who’d had their naked arse splashed across the papers.

He could go home, but that would just be displaying his failure for all to see.  He’d probably run into that Merlin character yet again.  But then he thought that perhaps he should go with it, maybe just embracing what people expected him to be was the answer?  He could fake!date Merlin, spend his days sitting out by the pool in the sun quaffing champagne and being waited on hand and foot.  Morgana was always asking him to model for one of her ranges.  She’d even persuaded him once or twice.  He could do that forever.  Just be a glorified clothes horse.  Never use his brain again.

It was the most disheartening thought.  Worst of all, he knew he’d made a mistake in refusing Morgana’s request that he manage her business.  That would have been okay.  Nobody would have laughed at him and he could have proved himself, built up a reputation.  But Agravaine had that job now and it was too late for Arthur. 

He didn’t go home.  Instead he bought a coffee and sat by the pond in the local park, watching the ducks and wondering just how and why his life had become so completely pointless.

Merlin was starting to forget what his home looked like.

He’d got back late the previous night, then left so early that his father had been too sleepy (and frankly too _stunned_ by Merlin’s dawn appearance) to make any snarky comments.  Balinor had just blinked at him.  Merlin hadn’t yet had the nerve to hand over the ‘gift’ from Uther.  He thought he might leave it with his mother and make a quick exit.  So it was sitting up in his room, hidden under a pile of half-finished songs, waiting for the appropriate moment.  He supposed that if Uther asked he could truthfully say that his father was asleep when he got home.  Uther did ask, of course.  He wanted to know all about Merlin’s father and what Balinor had been up to in what Uther referred to as ‘The Wilderness Years’.  Merlin answered as best he could.  Really, he thought that if Uther wanted to reconnect with his old buddy then maybe he should just pick up the phone.

That, doubtless, would go horribly.  Merlin didn’t suggest it.

The second evening was looking as if it might turn into another late one.  Dinner at Uther’s seemed to be a post-recording tradition – the other band members didn’t even seem to need an invitation.  Merlin felt slightly guilty at the disappointment he could hear in his mother’s voice when he called her to let her know that he wouldn’t be home for dinner that evening either. 

“I suppose Uther has proper chefs and people to wait on you.  Much better than anything you’d get here.”

“Sorry Mum.  It’s only while I’m on this job.  You know I love your cooking.  And Mr Pendragon’s been really nice.  It would be rude to refuse his hospitality.”

Truthfully, Uther had only been nice once he realised Merlin could actually sing, and even more so once he realised who Merlin’s parents were.  But that was good enough.  The friendship of a megastar, no matter what the reason, wasn’t likely to harm Merlin’s chances in the music industry at all.  And the song they’d recorded did sound great.  Merlin didn’t know exactly what kind of wizardry it was that Gaius used but it had produced the most moving, heartfelt version of _Father and Son_ that Merlin had ever heard.  It definitely was intended as a duet.  He wondered why people generally just didn’t sing it as one.

Merlin was spared any more guilt-tripping from his mother because an ear-splitting shriek on the other end of the phone indicated that Freya had commandeered the handset.

“Merlin!  Have you met Morgana yet?”

Freya’s voice was very loud.  And because Merlin had been sitting at the dining table when he called and it had started to fill up while he talked, Morgana was now sitting right next to him.  Apparently she had bat-like hearing because she turned to look with amusement and curiosity at Merlin. 

“Who’s that?”

“Um… she’s sitting next to me right now, Frey.  She can hear you.”

There was another very loud squeal.  Merlin rolled his eyes and spoke to Morgana. “It’s my little sister, Freya.  She’s sixteen and your biggest fan.”

“Oh that’s too sweet! Let me speak to her!” Morgana immediately grabbed his phone from him without waiting for agreement.  “Hello Freya!  Yes!  Yes I am… really…Oh dear,” she handed the phone back to Merlin.  “Sorry, I think I’ve broken your little sister.  She’s incoherent.  Put us on video so that I can say hello properly.”

That would probably put Freya into hysterics, but there was no arguing with Morgana so Merlin just did it.  Freya would be thrilled once she got over her shock anyway.

Sure enough, a moment later there was his sister gawping back at them from his mother’s smartphone. 

“Oh my god!”

“She kept saying that on the phone as well,” Morgana smiled, delighted at the adulation.  “Hello Freya!  My, you’re just as adorable-looking as your brother!  He’s doing a fashion shoot for me, did he tell you?”

Freya’s mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.  Merlin tried not to laugh.  It was quite funny to watch though.  He would have to tease Freya about this at some point. 

“She’s so cute!” Morgana told Merlin.  “Freya, you’re to come along when Merlin does his shoot.  I think you’d look perfect in a couple of my pieces.  Would you like that?  Put your mum on, I’ll arrange it with her.”

Merlin didn’t get his phone back for quite some time.  Morgana and Hunith were having a long chat, with Hunith getting to see Morgana’s designs via the video link.  By the end of it Uther had arrived along with the rest of his crew, and it was time for dinner. 

Arthur came in a few minutes later.  Merlin thought the man looked tired and drawn.  Wisely Merlin didn’t ask how the interview went as that was quite obvious.  He took his lead from Morgana, who just looked sympathetically across at her brother and didn’t say anything.

If only Uther were that sensitive.

“Cat!  George tells me you went for another job interview today.  How did it go?  Do you need me to put in a good word for you?”

“It wasn’t suitable,” Arthur told him. 

“I could get you a post at one of the major record labels you know.  You only have to ask.  I’d be happy to help.”

Uther was a strange sort, Merlin thought.  He obviously cared about his son, but had absolutely no idea how to relate to the difficulties Arthur had to be experiencing.  Morgana, at least, was more compassionate. 

“Uther, how’s the album going?” she asked.  It was an immediate distraction.  Uther started enthusing about the duet with Merlin, and how Gaius was convinced it would be a huge hit, and left Arthur alone. 

Merlin snuck another glance at Arthur while Uther was distracted.  Arthur really didn’t look very well.  Stress, Merlin supposed.  He doubted any of the Pendragons coped well with failure.  Having such a successful father, and apparently a successful sister too, it couldn’t be easy for Arthur.  Merlin wondered if there was anything he could do or say that would help, but he couldn’t think of a single thing.  It wasn’t as if they could have a quiet conversation either as Uther was right there between them, his booming voice going on about the duet.

“Oh Cat,” Uther suddenly turned to his son again.  “I didn’t tell you – George has written up an itinerary for you.  You’ll take Merlin out to a few places to be seen once the album is due.  The single will be coming out a few weeks before and I’ll need you to publicise that.  Just a few dinners, shows, that sort of thing.  You don’t mind, do you?”

It wasn’t actually a question, Merlin couldn’t help thinking.  Arthur just shrugged.  He couldn’t have looked less enthusiastic if he’d actually said no. 

“Whatever.”

Arthur sounded so miserable that Merlin couldn’t help trying to help.  And if it cost him his chance to ever work with Uther again then he’d just take that risk.  “I don’t know Arthur very well, but he doesn’t really seem to be the sort of person who enjoys publicity.  I think maybe it would be better if I went out with the band or something like that.”

“I’ll take him!” Gwaine yelled from across the table.  For some reason that seemed to make Arthur look even more unhappy.

“We’ve discussed this, Greene!” Uther called back.  “Band members are off limits!” He glanced at his son.  “And my children too!”

Arthur looked up, startled for a moment, gazed briefly at Gwaine with what could only be longing and then frowned at his father.  “We’re not children!”

Ah.  That made sense.  Arthur liked Gwaine.  And Gwaine was really attractive.  Small wonder Arthur had zero interest in Merlin.

“You and your sister _are_ my children, Cat.  Like it or not.”

Judging by Arthur’s face he definitely did _not_ like it.  Merlin tried again, because he could see a family argument coming on and doubted Arthur would come out of it best.  Uther seemed to lord over everything in that place.

“What about if we all went out as a group?  That could work?”

But nobody was listening, and Morgana actually shushed him. 

“How is it okay for you to set me up with Merlin here if I’m off-limits for band members?” Arthur asked.  “Isn’t he a band member?”

“Session singer.  Different.  _And_ perhaps you missed the part about this being a publicity set-up?  Honestly, Cat, all that education and I sometimes wonder if you took any of it in at all!  This is all for you, you know that?  This is a celebration of your sexuality.  I’m titling the album _Cat_ even.”

“Oh god,” Arthur groaned, but Uther ignored that.

“You could pose for the cover.  I was thinking of that picture of you that’s up on the landing, looking as if you’re about to punch someone.”

“I’m _five_ in that picture!” Arthur protested.

“Yes!  It’s perfect!  You can recreate the pose, we can do a copy of it with you as an adult on the inner sleeve.  Or the other way around.”

“I’ll think about it,” Arthur promised. “Oh wait, I’ve thought about it.  No.”

Uther gave Arthur a long, cold look, then turned to talk to Morgana instead.  It reminded Merlin of his own father’s behaviour, usually towards Mordred when Merlin’s younger brother was being sulky.  The difference was that Arthur really did have a point.  Merlin tried smiling across at Arthur sympathetically but just got glowered at for his pains.  

Merlin hoped they didn’t have to go through with any fake dates.  He had no doubt that they would be awful.

The sad truth was that Arthur didn’t really have anything to do most of the time, and a fake date with Merlin might be the most interesting event of his week.

That didn’t mean that he was going to go along with it quietly, or _ever_ let his father or Merlin know about that.

After dinner, Uther had wandered off to talk to Gaius about something.  Merlin had gone home, and Arthur was left with Morgana and the band.  Unfortunately that group included Cenred.

“You might as well do what Uther wants and date Merlin, Arthur,” Cenred advised.  “I would, if your father wasn’t being such a killjoy with these stupid new rules of his.  You’ll probably get a shag out of it – he’s just some nobody starting out and you’re _Uther’s_ son. He’ll probably do anything you want.”  He scowled at Gwaine.  “I hate this new rule about not hitting on the guest singers.  That Merlin’s probably gagging for it. I’d do him.”

“You know who he is, don’t you?” Lance asked.

“Some broke kid,” Cenred shrugged.  “He’s going to want to make the best of his chance here.” He leaned back in his chair, stretching out.  “I’m definitely that best chance!”

“Seriously?” Lance looked to Arthur.  “ _You_ know who he is, right?”

“He’s Merlin, one of dad’s session singers.  He’s probably had a lucky break on some talent show.”

“No, Arthur! He’s Balinor Emrys’ son.  You know, that hippie crooner from the 70s who founded The Dragons with Uther?  Long before our time, but Uther was talking about it yesterday.  They haven’t spoken in decades, but they used to be best friends.  You were sitting there when he said it, Cen.  Don’t you listen?  So it’s in Merlin’s genes and although his father’s not had a hit in years he’s still known and his son can build on that.  Merlin’s never really needed a lucky break.  Same as you wouldn’t if you decided to go into the business, Arthur.”

“Which you could, easily,” Gwaine added.  “I’ve heard you sing.  You’ve got a great voice, Arthur.”

“Great arse too,” Cenred added.

Arthur ignored that horrible comment because there was absolutely no way he’d ever get on stage.  He recalled the beat-up car that Merlin had arrived in and tried to steer things back to his preferred subject.  “Merlin doesn’t look particularly well-off.”

Gwaine shrugged.  “Think his parents give a lot to charity, or something.  They’re tree-huggers last I heard.  Still get a ton of royalties from the things he wrote with Uther though.  They do okay.”

“So he’s not a gold-digger?” Arthur said slowly.  “Definitely”

“No!” Morgana told him.  “He’s not.  I’ve spoken to his mum, she sounds really down to earth and nice.  Just do it, Arthur.  Who knows, you might actually enjoy it.  Merlin’s great.”

Arthur sighed.  It looked as if he wasn’t going to have any support on this one.  But there was no way he was going to pretend to date Merlin.  No way in the world.


	2. Chapter 2

One of the good things about being Uther Pendragon’s son was that Arthur lived in a house that had everything.  And one of the best things about that house was the swimming pool that had been installed in the basement.  It was deep and long, and perfect for unwinding in when things got too stressful.

Admittedly Arthur had stayed away from it in recent weeks because there were memories of sharing the Jacuzzi with Cedric that he really wanted to erase.  But doing laps up and down the pool was his favourite way to relax, and the stress over the latest job interview and the ridiculous situation with his father’s new album definitely needed a release.

Arthur’s friends from uni often popped over at weekends.  They said it was to see him, but Arthur suspected it was also the free use of the pool.  He didn’t blame them.  Percival had some high-powered job in the city already, while Leon was working his way up in a major stationery firm.  They’d both obtained posts fairly quickly after graduating.  They’d also both got 2:1s rather than the first class honours that Arthur had obtained.  He was glad for them, but desperately wished it was him that had one of those posts – he’d applied for both but neither firm had even interviewed him – it didn’t take a genius to work out why.

Leon was over that particular weekend.  It was the first time in nearly a month as the new job had been keeping him busy.  It seemed longer to Arthur, because time passed slowly when you had nothing to do. 

The swimming pool was always standing unused and forgotten – except when Arthur and his friends used it.  Seeing them doing laps seemed to remind everyone else that it was there, and without fail Arthur would have his time with his friends interrupted by one or more of his father’s band.  Or Morgana, who particularly liked to use the pool when Percival was there.  Her ‘use’ of the pool mostly involved sitting around in a skimpy bikini with Gwen, both of them never going further than the little Jacuzzi at the side of the pool that afforded an excellent view of the swimmers.

If Gwen was there then Lance wouldn’t be far behind.  And if Lance was there instead of in the studio then Gwaine would get bored and come out as well.  Then Cenred would follow, although he mostly sat around drinking and didn’t get in the pool at all because the chlorine ruined his hair.  Gwaine didn’t care and got in anyway.  It didn’t appear to hurt his glorious locks at all.  Gwaine spent most of his time pretending to be a terrible swimmer and splashing Leon to annoy him.  It was strange because Leon was a good swimmer and yet Gwaine could keep up well enough to cause all sorts of irritation. 

And finally George would appear and order the band back to work, which generally killed the mood and everyone would leave soon after – Leon and Percival included. George had no sense of fun.

But today, Percival was too busy with his new job to come over.  Saturdays were never free, apparently.  Morgana was unlikely to turn up if she couldn’t ogle Percival’s biceps.  Gwen wouldn’t be there without Morgana, and without Gwen there would also be no Lance.  And as Gwaine always needed Lance to remind him about it, there would be no Gwaine either.

Leon did look a little disappointed when he realised that it was just him and Arthur, but he covered it up quickly and they were soon sitting in the Jacuzzi catching up on each other’s lives.

Leon, apparently, was not happy in his new job.

“The hours are a nightmare.  This is the first Saturday I’ve had off in weeks.  And they said it was a middle management post. It’s junior.  _Really_ junior and I can’t see where the management part fits in at all.  I’ve got no staff and I’m just sitting there paying invoices all day.  I’m quitting as soon as I find something else.”

“I’d like to just find something,” Arthur admitted. 

“Still no luck?”

Arthur shook his head.  “No chance with all that stuff in the papers.  Cedric ruined any sliver of opportunity.  Difficult to take someone seriously when you’ve seen their naked butt before you’ve seen their face.”

Leon knew better than to advise Arthur to get his father to help (which was what Percival usually said so Arthur wasn’t entirely sorry that he wasn’t there).  Instead he changed the subject.

“Sorry mate, I wish I could help.  Oh, I saw a new guy when I was parking. Black hair, black… well, everything.  Eyeliner, nail polish, clothes...  He and Gwaine were talking.  Gwaine had his arm round the guy’s shoulders.  Please tell me it’s Gwaine’s boyfriend and he won’t be coming in here bothering us?”

Arthur was never quite sure about Leon and Gwaine and their love-hate relationship.  Though he had a fairly good idea because Gwaine chased _everything_ and Leon was probably a challenge.  And besides, that would just be Arthur’s luck to have his best friend dating his crush.  But it hadn’t happened yet.  Probably.

“That’ll be Merlin.  Dad’s doing a new album.  Merlin’s dueting with him on one of the songs. Supposed to be me.  The whole album is dedicated to me being gay.  Just in case someone missed it in the papers.  I don’t suppose your parents would like to adopt me? Or some overseas relatives in a remote corner of the world that has never heard of Uther Pendragon?  Do you have any of those?”

“Sorry, no,” Leon shook his head.  “I suppose he means well.”

Arthur didn’t dignify that with a response.  When the silence lengthened, Leon stood up. 

“Laps?”

Arthur readily agreed.  Swimming was calming, the feel of moving through the water was something he always found relaxed him, even when he’d been doing laps for ages.

They’d been going for nearly half an hour when there was a massive splash signalling Gwaine’s arrival after all.  Arthur privately decided that this confirmed his suspicions about Gwaine and Leon.  Or Gwaine at least.

“Leon!  Look!  I’ve learned to dive bomb!” Gwaine yelled on surfacing.  “Swim past again, see if I can hit you!”

And that was the end of the peaceful companionable swimming.  Arthur swam on alone in the far lane while Leon and Gwaine bickered and fought all the way up and down the middle of the pool.

“Stop kicking me Gwaine!”

“Oops!  Sorry, was that your leg?”

“Use a different lane!”

“I like this one.”

“Fine! I’ll use a different lane… oh god, don’t follow me!”

“I want you to save me if I drown!  I’m a horrible swimmer!  Save me, Leon!”

“You got the horrible part right!  Don’t splash me!”

Finally Gwaine got out and Leon headed off down the pool, free.  But it was only momentary.  Gwaine padded along the side, biding his time.  He waited until Leon was close by, then dive-bombed the pool, almost hitting Leon.

“Gwaine!” Leon exploded.  “You idiot!”

“That’s me… well the Gwaine part anyway.  Hey, where are you going?”

Leon hauled himself out of the pool and onto the side, then went over to get his towel.  “Sorry Arthur,” he called.  “He’s a liability.  We’ll catch up for a drink, I’ll call you.”

“You could call me instead!” Gwaine yelled after him, but just got a finger for his efforts.  “That’s rude!”

Arthur considered getting out too, but Leon was already heading off and would only spend the rest of the day grumbling about Gwaine if Arthur followed him.  Instead he resumed his laps.

Gwaine evidently didn’t know what to do if he didn’t have anyone to annoy.  He swam up and down half-heartedly a few times, and then George turned up and called him back to the studio because apparently there was still a track to finish off.

“Thanks for ruining the afternoon, Gwaine,” Arthur grumbled, as Gwaine was getting out of the pool.

Gwaine did at least have the grace to look a little ashamed.  “Sorry mate, I can’t help myself.  He’s so easy to wind up.  Cute too!  Do you think…?”

“No!”

Honestly, did Gwaine want to shag everyone on the planet except Arthur?  It was starting to look like it.  But Gwaine just shrugged, grinned at him, and headed off after George.

Left alone, Arthur swam on in isolation for a good half hour more.  It was nice, under the dimmed lights, moving through the warm water.  He had other things he wanted to talk to Leon about but they would have to wait.  And there was the awkward non-dating of Merlin to consider as well.  Perhaps he should talk to his father about that because the idea of fake dating to promote the album was possibly the most ridiculous thing his father had ever come up with.  And over the years his father had come up with some _very_ ridiculous ideas.

“Hello Arthur.”

It was Cenred who had come to disturb his peace this time.  That was unusual, as Cenred normally only turned up by the pool if there were a big group already gathered.  Arthur didn’t think he’d ever seen Cenred there alone before.  There was something a little unsettling about it, and when Arthur stopped near him there was something even more unsettling about the way that Cenred’s eyes were roving over Arthur’s body.

“Cenred.  Shouldn’t you be in the studio?”

“I’m done for the day.  Gwaine said you were in here, so I thought I’d have a swim.  And keep you company.”

That was odd, because Cenred had never sought him out before, or showed an interest in actually swimming.  But Cenred kicked off his shoes, and pulled his shirt over his head revealing a whole host of tattoos spread across his torso.  Arthur had a thing for tattoos but not in this particular case. 

“That’s really nice of you,” Arthur said carefully.  Cenred was undoing his fly and Arthur just prayed the man was wearing underwear.  “Actually, I’m almost done so you can have the pool to yourself.”

Cenred wasn’t wearing underwear.  Jesus. 

“Come on in the Jacuzzi then,” Cenred invited.  “Better in there anyway. More intimate.”

Arthur wasn’t quite sure where the sudden come-on from Cenred had come from, but he was quite sure that he didn’t like it.  Cenred was definitely not his type.  There was something deeply sleazy about him.  And the vision of him standing there naked, partially erect, was going to haunt Arthur’s nightmares for a while.

“You know, those photos didn’t do you justice,” Cenred continued.  Mercifully he was climbing into the Jacuzzi and only his head and shoulders were visible.  “You’re pretty hot, you know that?”

Those bloody photos.  It was definitely time to make a sharp exit. 

“You know my father has put my sister and I off limits to band members, don’t you?” Arthur reminded him. 

“He’s busy in the studio, he’ll never know.  Come on, Arthur, live a little. Cedric shitted on both of us.  Bit of afternoon delight, where’s the harm?  You’re single, I’m single… I never hear any complaints!”

“No thanks,” Arthur hauled himself out of the pool, not even bothering with the steps.  He realised his mistake a moment later.

“Oh that’s great upper arm strength.  Very nice, Arthur.  _Very_ nice.  Come on over here.”

Feeling faintly nauseated, Arthur grabbed a towel and his clothes and headed for the toilet.  Normally he would have showered off the chlorine but not this time.  The toilet had a lock and he made sure to use it then dried himself and dressed as fast as he could.  Cenred was a creep and Arthur had already had enough of those for one lifetime.  Chances were that he was a fairly harmless creep, but Arthur wasn’t going to take any risks.  Dressed, his hair still wet and his shirt clinging to him in places that he’d missed with the towel, Arthur headed off to the studio where at least there would be other people.  One of those people would be his father, and that would definitely stop Cenred trying anything further.  Cenred called something after him but Arthur ignored it and kept going. 

The doors to the studio were open when Arthur approached.  He could hear someone playing the keyboards and as he got closer he could hear Green Day’s _Boulevard Of Broken Dreams_ being sung just with that accompaniment

_“I walk a lonely road_

_The only one that I have ever known_

_Don't know where it goes_

_But it's home to me and I walk alone.”_

Arthur paused outside, listening.  He loved that song.  And whoever was singing it had a great voice.  Somehow although this version sounded quite different from the original it didn’t detract from it.  The single instrument and the voice gave it a bleaker, slower and starker feel than the original.  Arthur went in, careful not to disturb the artist as he did so.

It was Merlin singing.

Arthur had expected as much, because he didn’t recognise the voice. Merlin was alone in the studio, sitting at a keyboard in the corner with his back to the door.  He seemed to be just practising and probably didn’t realise that he was being watched, Arthur realised.  Rather than startle him, Arthur picked up one of the guitars that had been left in there, and softly joined in with the music.

Merlin glanced around, hearing the accompaniment.  He looked briefly surprised to see Arthur, but smiled and carried on with the next verse, and then the chorus.  Arthur couldn’t help joining in with that part.  When they reached the next verse Merlin nodded to Arthur, indicating that he should sing this time. 

Arthur hadn’t sung in the studio for years.  He’d forgotten that it could be fun because every time he went in there his father was always trying to get him to join in with some recording.  Yes, it probably was in his blood, and he did love music.  But he had no desire to take up music as his career.  In many ways, Uther had put him off that.  Merlin was smiling at him expectantly though, and Arthur found he actually wanted to join in. 

“ _I'm walking down the line_

_That divides me somewhere in my mind_

_On the border line_

_Of the edge and where I walk alone”_

Merlin’s grin was infectious, and Arthur couldn’t help returning it as they sang the final verse together, laughing at the end when Merlin played a little flourish on the keyboard.

“You’re good!” Merlin told him.  “Your father’s right, you should be singing that duet with him, not me.”

“I’m not interested,” Arthur replied.  “That was fun, and that’s as far as I go.  I’d be forever compared with my father, even if I wanted to go down that route.  But you’re brilliant.  You’re going to do really well in this business.”

Merlin blushed to the tips of his ears at the praise.  It was endearingly cute and Arthur wished that Merlin wasn’t working with his father because he was sure that if they’d met in a different lifetime with no helpful family members then they’d be together by now.

“Thanks,” Merlin said, then stuck his hand out a little shyly.  “We got off to a bad start.  Can we start again?”

Arthur was more than happy to do that.  He shook Merlin’s hand, trying not to think how cool and smooth Merlin’s skin felt against his own.  “Definitely.  Hi, I’m Arthur.”

“Great name, I’m Merlin, nice to meet you.”

“You too, Merlin.” Arthur knew he was holding Merlin’s hand for longer than was necessary but neither of them seemed particularly eager to let go.  And it was good that they’d cleared the air.  “Welcome to Pendragon House.”

“Thank you… Arthur, why’s your hair wet?”

“I was swimming,” Arthur began, but he didn’t get the chance to explain about Cenred because right then the man himself came striding back into the studio, the ends of his long hair damp and curling. 

“That’s my guitar,” he growled, snatching it away from Arthur.  “You _don’t_ use other people’s instruments.  I’ve got it tuned just right.”

“Actually it’s a bit off key,” Merlin pointed out.

Cenred glared at him, and then at Arthur too.  Arthur had the horrible feeling that he’d made an enemy. “Thanks a lot, Arthur!”  He stomped off to one of the chairs that lined the far wall, and began to retune his guitar.

Gwaine and Lance had come back in so it looked as if practice time was over.  Arthur gently tapped the side of the keyboard with his finger.

“That was fun.  We’ll do it again sometime, yes?”

“Definitely!”

Arthur turned to leave, a smile on his face.  That was when he realised that his father was sitting in the corner of the studio, and had probably been there all along.

“Good duet, Cat,” Uther called.  “You’ve got a great voice.” He sounded proud.

And that, definitely, was Arthur’s cue to leave.

Somehow Morgana’s fashion shoot had turned into an Emrys family affair.

Hunith had insisted on coming along with Freya.  Merlin was glad his little sister was well cared for, but he was also a little insulted given that he would have been there and their mother obviously didn’t trust him to look after her.  Cheek.  Although he supposed that Hunith also just wanted to go along and see what was happening.

Unfortunately as it was the school holidays she wouldn’t leave Mordred at home by himself.  And so Merlin was accompanied by a curious mother, a vastly over-excited little sister and a little brother who actually said on the drive over that he wished death would claim him soon so that he wouldn’t have to spend the afternoon in hell.  And also there was a baby, but as Sabrina was fast asleep in her car seat that wasn’t really too much of a problem.  At first, anyway.

The shoot, much like everything else, took place at the Pendragons’ luxurious and vast home.  The endless parklands surrounding Uther’s manor included a lake, and a grotto had been cut into the low rocky hillside on one side of that lake.  Behind it, going up the hill, were mostly rocks and trees although Merlin thought he could see a tent or something white up there. 

“How lovely,” Hunith commented as they walked down the path and into the grotto.  “Oh look!  Is that an angel?  Oh, I think it’s supposed to be Ygraine.  How lovely!”

There was a statue of some sort of winged lady inside the grotto.  She had her arms stretched out as if she were about to take flight.  Merlin wasn’t sure who Ygraine was and thought she looked more like a fairy than an angel.  Mordred hated it on sight.

“What’s _that_ stupid thing for?” he grumbled, looking up from his phone for a brief moment.

“Just keep your eye on it,” Merlin advised.  “Don’t blink!”

That did at least give the little horror a momentary pause, and Merlin saw him snap off a picture of it.  It was probably going up on his Instagram or something as an example of the things he had to suffer in his terrible life with his unbearable family.

“Don’t take any pictures of the designs!”

Merlin hadn’t even seen Morgana approach.  She looked glamorous as ever, even in a simple jeans and t-shirt ensemble.  There was just something about her.

“Morgana.”  Merlin let himself be kissed hello, then introduced his family.  “This is my mother.”

“Mrs Emrys, lovely to meet you.”

“Call me Hunith, my dear.” There were more kisses.  “I hope you don’t mind, I brought the whole brood with me.”

“And they’re all adorable!”

Mordred winced as if Morgana’s words had physically hurt him.

“Now I know you’re Freya,” Morgana greeted the young girl with a kiss too.  Merlin wondered if Freya was going to survive the day.  She didn’t seem able to speak. “And who’s this?  Merlin, you didn’t tell me you had such a handsome brother!”

If it was possible for Mordred’s scowl to deepen, it just did.  Morgana must have realised this as she didn’t risk the kisses.  It was probably wise, Merlin thought.

“That’s Mordred,” Merlin explained.  “He’s so pleased to be here he can hardly contain himself.”

“I see,” Morgana risked another smile at Mordred but got no response.  His head was down, all concentration back on his phone.  Though Merlin thought perhaps he was blushing a little. “You know, Mordred, some of my pieces would be perfect on you too.  It might be more fun for you than just standing around watching your siblings get all the attention.”

“Mordred doesn’t do fun,” Freya finally found her voice.  Mordred glared at her, and then back at Morgana.

“I do!”

“Excellent!” Morgana beamed at them both.  “Honestly, you two are so cute you could be twins!”

“We are!” Freya and Mordred said in unison.  One said it far more enthusiastically than the other.

“Perfect!” Morgana clasped her hands together.  “Merlin, go on through, I’ve had a tent set up at the top of the steps where you can change.  Everything’s labelled and numbered, and anyway my assistant Gwen will take care of you.  I might change up a few things I was going to put you in as I think these two will suit some of them better.  Honestly, I can’t wait to see how you all look!”

“I didn’t say I would,” Mordred grumbled under his breath but Morgana didn’t seem to hear and started to herd them all towards the rear entrance of the grotto.  Though Merlin had noticed her doing the selective deafness thing before.  It was a clever sort of manipulative trick that she had, it didn’t instantly offend and allowed her to carry on. If anyone challenged it she would claim that so many formative years being subjected to Uther’s loud rock music had obviously taken its toll and look so desperately sad about it that whatever she had missed would be forgotten.

The grotto had a narrow flight of steps cut into the stone that led back up to the parklands of Uther’s estate.  Sure enough, there was a huge marquee erected at the top, and that was what Merlin had been able to see through the trees.  It all added to the slightly artificial sense that the park gave off.  The trees had been either planted to leave a large flat clearing, or cut down for the same effect.  Probably a popular spot for extravagant summer parties.  Certainly better than the lopsided barbeque that Balinor had tried to build in their back garden

Inside, the tent was partitioned off to provide changing areas and what appeared to be hair and make-up chairs.  There was a blonde lady already seated in one, having her eyeliner touched up.  She looked both snooty and scary at the same time, already dressed in one of Morgana’s dark creations.  Merlin offered her a smile but just got a superior look in return.

 “Vivien, they’re ready for you!” someone called from the other end of the tent. 

The blonde model got up, swept past Merlin, looked Hunith up and down very pointedly, sniffed, and headed down the steps to the grotto.  Merlin very much hoped he wouldn’t have to do any pictures with her.

“Merlin!”  Gwen Du Lac, Morgana’s very lovely and friendly assistant hurried over to them.  She gave his family a huge, warm smile.  “I’m Gwen, I’ll be looking after you and your sister.”

“And Mordred too,” Morgana told her.  “Put him with Freya in five and seven instead of Merlin.  They’ll be perfect.  Twins!  Can you believe it?  What luck!”  She turned to Merlin.  “Darlings, I’m leaving you all in Gwen’s hands.  I can’t wait to see how you all look!”

With that, she swept off after Vivien in a waft of expensive perfume. 

Gwen gestured towards the make-up chairs.

“Shall we make a start?”

Freya gave a delighted squeak and dashed over to sit in one of the chairs.  Mordred groaned.  Sabrina woke up and started fussing to get out of the pushchair Hunith had strapped her into.  Finding that she wasn’t able to do so she opened her mouth and began a loud wail.

Merlin had a horrible feeling that it was going to be a very long day.

Just for once there was no recording going on in the house.

To Arthur, it seemed as if the recording of Uther’s latest album had been going on forever.  This was mostly due to the way that Uther wanted him to be involved in it, and then when that had failed Uther had wanted him to pretend to date Merlin.  In a long list of strange things his father had come up with over the years, this probably was at the top.

It was fortunate that he’d made up with  Merlin, because the man was everywhere.  Merlin joined them for dinner almost every evening, but as that was normal behaviour for band members Arthur couldn’t really complain – and no longer really wanted to; that was how he’d met Cedric, after all.  Actually, given how badly that turned out perhaps he _could_ complain. 

Merlin was very different from Cedric, though, that much was obvious.  For one thing, Merlin was hopeless.  He kept getting lost in the house when he arrived in the morning.  The basement corridors seemed to confuse him and more than once Arthur had found him back in the hallway looking lost and needing a guide.  The first time it happened Arthur thought it might be deliberate, because it wasn’t that difficult.  But Merlin admitted that if he didn’t have his sat nav on in the car he tended to end up miles away.  He’d even suggested to Arthur that they made a map app of the house to guide temporary musicians around.  He’d looked so earnest while suggesting this that Arthur had laughed.  Merlin really did have no sense of direction.  Arthur tried not to find it endearing.  He absolutely was not going to go along with his father’s request that he fake date Merlin, and it would make things so much worse if Arthur allowed himself to become attracted.  Scratch that, he already _was_ attracted.  It was giving in to that attraction that he needed to avoid.

Merlin was out in the grounds today being used as one of Morgana’s models.  It was tempting to find some excuse to go out there and watch, because Merlin was bound to look positively edible wearing Morgana’s designs.  But there would be photos, and Morgana was never shy about showing those off so soon enough Arthur knew he’d see Merlin for himself.

There had been no further news on the job front.  Arthur wasn’t sure if he was entirely disappointed by that – after the last disastrous interview he didn’t think he had enough confidence to go through another one just yet.  But he had to find something or he was going to go insane sitting in the house all day.  Still, no risk of running into Merlin yet again, plus Morgana was tied up with her photoshoot, which meant that Arthur pretty much had the run of the house.  He decided to go downstairs and watch a movie in Uther’s home cinema room.  It was rather like having a cinema of your own. It was certainly big enough, and Uther almost never used it.  Arthur’s friends enjoyed using it too – it was hooked up to all the Sky sports and movie channels.  He wondered if Leon and Percival were free. He could do with a bit of company that wasn’t either family or Uther’s band.

“Cat!”

Arthur’s heart sank.  There, sprawled right across Arthur’s favourite seat (the best one, middle centre) was his father.  Uther was sitting with Gaius, Gwaine and Lance, and they were watching some very old and grainy footage that definitely wasn’t in HD. 

“Come on in, you’ll like this!”

Arthur doubted that very much.  He could see a much younger version of his father in very, very horrible seventies clothing on the screen.  There was a man behind him on lead guitar with long dark hair that didn’t look as if it had seen a hairdresser in some considerable time.  And on the keyboards…

“Oh god, is that you Gaius?”

Gwaine let out a whoop of delight.  “Isn’t it brilliant?  That jumpsuit!  And look at his _hair_!  I want a copy of this!”

“Shut up, Greene,” Gaius growled.  “Arthur, we’re looking at footage of The Dragons.  This is before _Dragonlord_ was released.  Come and join us, your mother comes on for the next song.  You’ve probably never seen this footage, it was hidden away in the storeroom on some ancient tapes.  I’ve only just had it converted.”

“Merlin’s mother comes on as well, actually,” Uther told him.  “She and Ygraine were our backing singers.  And that’s Balinor, Merlin’s father, there on guitar.  Bad tempered git but he was an amazing guitar player.  Best ever.  Damned sight better than Cenred!”

“Merlin would probably enjoy seeing this as well,” Gwaine pointed out.  “That’s his dad. We should call him in.”

“He’s doing Morgana’s fashion shoot today,” Arthur put in quickly, sitting down next to Gaius.  “She’s been going on about it all week.  I think his sister and mother are there too.”

Uther sat up, suddenly interested.  “Hunith?  She’s here?”

“I think so.  The daughter is only sixteen or something.”

“Well why didn’t anyone say?  I haven’t seen Hunith in years!  Cat, she’ll want to meet you, she hasn’t seen you since you were a baby!  We should go and say hello.  She might want to see this too!”  He got up, and Arthur noticed that yet again his father had been drinking what looked like whisky.  It wasn’t even quite midday yet. 

“Maybe you should cut back on that a little,” Arthur indicated the glass in Uther’s hand.  “It’s not good for you.”

“You are _such_ an old man, Cat,” Uther told him.  He drained the glass, and left it on the arm of the chair. Doubtless one of their staff would have cleared it away within minutes.  “Why can’t you be more like your sister? She knows how to live.  Honestly, sometimes I wonder about you! Come on, we’re all going to see Hunith.  George!”

Uther’s assistant, who had been waiting in the shadows as he always did, hurried forward.  “Sir?”

“Sort out lunch.  Buffet in here, we’ll be having guests.”

“Sir!” George gave a little bow and ran off. 

“Cat!”

Arthur hadn’t got up when the others had.  He was hoping to have at least a little time watching the football or something.  But no.

“I don’t want to bother Morgana, she’s busy.”

“Oh stop being so difficult.  Come on,” Uther headed for the door, and when Arthur still didn’t move, he yelled instead.  “ _CAT!  NOW!”_

“I’m Arthur,” Arthur grumbled.  He knew he wouldn’t be heard.

The photoshoot was well under way and Merlin was actually quite enjoying it. 

Elyan, the photographer, was apparently Gwen’s brother.  He was professional, handsome, likeable and very good at his job.  Merlin had expected some sleazy creep and was pleasantly surprised. Freya absolutely loved working with him and he even managed to coax a half-smile out of Mordred.

Luckily the shoot was generally not supposed to be smiley, and the twins ended up doing a set with Mordred looking grumpy in the outfits and Freya looking delighted.  The contrast worked really well.

Unfortunately, Sabrina screamed her head off throughout it all and no amount of cuddling or feeding would stop her.  Hunith kept her outside most of the time, but they could all still hear her.

Vivien really didn’t like it.  “ _Must_ I work on amateur hour?” she complained at least twice.  “I’ve never been on such an unprofessional set.  I swear, the screaming from that brat has been setting my teeth on edge! Can’t someone give it a sedative or something?  My eardrums!”

Elyan’s eyes had widened at that, but he hadn’t commented except to tell her to take a step back because she was in Merlin’s light.

“Amateur!” she’d mouthed at him, but had stepped back anyway. 

Unfortunately, making life difficult for Vivien would mean making it difficult for Morgana, Elyan and Gwen as well and as they were all people Merlin wanted to keep as friends for the future he just took a leaf from Elyan’s book and ignored it.

Vivien was the only blight on the shoot though.  Morgana was super-kind to Freya, and Merlin supposed that if they ever did this again then Hunith wouldn’t feel the need to accompany Freya.  It all took a very long time, and they seemed to be doing the same picture over and over.  Vivien claimed that this was because they were all so useless, but in fact it was her who seemed to be making the most mistakes.

“Why did you hire her?” Merlin heard Elyan ask Morgana at one point after Vivien vanished upstairs to change.  “She’s difficult, and not exactly the best model ever.”

“Agravaine hired her,” Morgana explained.  “He’s not too happy with me because I’ve brought in Merlin, but I think he looks good in the clothes.”

“He’s perfect,” Elyan agreed.  “I don’t mind new people, as long as they’re easy going and do what they’re told.  I’d happily work with Merlin again.  And Freya with Mordred is such a great contrast.  Their eyes are so expressive.  You should sign them up for more work.”

“Not me?” Merlin asked, giving a mock-hurt expression.  He really didn’t care too much.  It was extra money but not something he wanted to make a career out of. 

“You’re going to be a huge music star, darling,” Morgana cooed.  “And I’ll be making sure you wear my designs all the time, you can count on that!  We should arrange a contract right now, while I can afford you!”

There was a loud cough from behind her.  A middle-aged man with hair just a little too dark to be natural had come in.  He wore a smart suit that didn’t quite fit properly, and was looking around critically at the scene before him.

“Agravaine, where have you been?” Morgana did not, Merlin noticed, kiss him hello as she did the rest of them.  Not that he blamed her, there was something about the man that immediately made Merlin not want to trust him.  “We started hours ago.”

“Little hitch with the boutique my dear,” Agravaine told her. His voice was far too calm and pleasant.  Merlin had a vague sense of foreboding.  “All sorted now.  Tell me, who are these people?  I thought Vivien was the model on this shoot?”

“She is.  I told you I was using Merlin as the male model though.  The clothes look perfect on him.”

“Hmm.” Agravaine looked at Merlin, then away.  “Well.  It’s your company, obviously.  But you do employ me to run things for you.  And these two children?”

Mordred’s deep scowl returned and this time Freya matched it.  In the black outfits Morgana had them in they really did look like the twins that they were.

“Merlin’s younger brother and sister.  Quite a find,” Elyan told him.  “I was suggesting to Morgana that you sign them up.”

Agravaine raised an eyebrow.  “And you are?”

“Elyan’s the photographer,” Gwen snapped.  Merlin had spoken to her a few times prior to the shoot and never found her anything but kind and pleasant.  Certainly she never snapped at anyone.  He supposed he wasn’t alone in his mistrust of Agravaine.

“Ah yes.  Gwen’s… brother.  Well, we are having quite the family affair out here today aren’t we?  All very professional I’m sure.”

“He has a First in photography and fine art!” Gwen exclaimed defensively.  “He’s brilliant!”

“His portfolio is very good,” Morgana agreed.  “We were lucky to get him.”

Elyan was just gaping at Agravaine in insulted shock.  Outside, Sabrina let off a fresh set of wailing.

“I’m sure he is,” Agravaine said patronisingly.  “Goodness what is that racket?”

“Agravaine!”  Vivien came hurrying down the stone steps and back into the grotto.  “Thank goodness you’re here, it’s been _dire_.  Children, screaming babies, and honestly this setting is just _horrible_!  I hate that statue.  That dreadful boy keeps pretending it’s coming to life.  I’m traumatised!  When can I go home?”

“Oh, my dear,” Agravaine put a comforting arm around Vivien, who was now fake-crying.  Elyan rolled his eyes at Merlin, who couldn’t help laughing.  “I’m so sorry, but I’m here now so we’ll have all this sorted out in no time I’m sure.”

“Actually, I’ve got all I need from Vivien, she _can_ go home now,” Elyan said quickly.  “Obviously she was excellent, we have some great shots.”

The tears immediately stopped.  “But there are three more outfits.”

“We decided not to include those,” Morgana told her.  “Agravaine, would you be a darling and take Vivien home?  Gwen kindly gave her a lift in but Vivien said she didn’t feel the suspension on Gwen’s car was up to her standards.  But you have that shiny BMW, I’m sure she’ll like that.”

“Well…”

“I’m sure it’s in your contract as my business manager,” Morgana added.

“Of course.  If you’ve finished here.  We can look at the pictures tomorrow.  See if there’s anything worth using,” he added pointedly, looking at Elyan.  “Let’s hope.”

“They look good to me,” Merlin put in.

“Yes, well, I’m sure they do to the untrained eye.  Run along and get your things, Vivien.  I do have another appointment so it would be helpful not to have to stick around here.  Morgana, we’ll need to do a transfer over to the business account sometime this week as we’re near completion on the purchase of the boutique.”

“I’ll arrange it,” Morgana promised. 

“Good.  You’ll love the place, Morgana, it’s perfect for you.  Very central.  We’ll have the decorators in as soon as we have the keys.  Vivien!” he called.  “I’ll wait for you in the car.”

Agravaine gave the grotto one last disdainful look, then left.  A few moments later Vivien flounced after him.

“Charming!” Elyan muttered.  “I’ll pack up.”

“Oh no, we’re not finished yet,” Morgana told him.  “Freya can do one of the pieces, and I’ll do the other two myself.  I can just about cope with crying babies, but not once they’re in their twenties!  Merlin, come with me, I’ll pair up with you for these last pieces, they’re evening wear and we want a romantic look.  No, don’t look worried – it’s only me.  If Agravaine hadn’t turned up when he did you’d have had to cosy up to Vivien!”

Put that way, Morgana seemed a preferable option. 

And so it was that when Uther turned up about half an hour later, Merlin had Morgana in his arms wearing a dress so deep cut in the bodice that it was almost indecent.  He was bending her back as if he were about to kiss her while Elyan reeled off dozens of pictures.

“Good god, what have we walked in on?” Uther exclaimed in mock horror.  “Merlin, we’re supposed to be setting you up with Cat, not Morgana!  If I find you turn out to be straight, I’ll have you neutered, I swear!”

Merlin hoped that was a joke.  Certainly Gaius, Lance and Gwaine were laughing, and they were used to Uther’s sense of humour or whatever it was.  Arthur was there too though, and he didn’t look too happy.

“It’s for the fashion shoot,” Merlin began, but Sabrina started to cry again at that point and Uther was instantly distracted.

“Hunith!  Cat said you were here!  It’s been too long!”

Then there were hugs and introductions to Freya and Mordred, and all the while the baby was screaming her head off.

“I’m sorry, Sabrina’s been restless all day,” Hunith explained, desperately rocking the child in an attempt to soothe her.  “

“Oh no, what a noise!” Uther was actually cooing at the baby.  It was bizarre.  “May I try?”

Hunith held Sabrina out in obvious relief.  “Be my guest.”

Uther took Sabrina with what looked like practised ease.  Well, Merlin supposed, he’d got two children of his own, strange as his relationship with them was.  Perhaps he was better when they couldn’t actually answer back.

“Cat used to scream his head off all the time,” Uther told them. “And what we used to do is to sing to him until he went to sleep.  It was the only thing that would work.  Let’s see…”

And then possibly one of the most famous rock stars on the planet, still in his black leathers because apparently that was casual wear as well as stage gear, started to gently sing _Father and Son_ to Merlin’s baby sister.  And, even more shockingly, it shut her up.

After a few minutes of being gently serenaded, Sabrina nodded off.  Uther placed her carefully back in the pushchair.

“Always works!” he told them a little smugly.  “I’m surprised you and Balinor don’t do that, Hunith?”

“Balinor is still getting over the shock of having another baby in the house after all this time,” Hunith admitted.  “She was a bit of a surprise.  He’s not feeling like singing!”

Balinor wasn’t the only one.  It had been a horrific day when Merlin, Mordred and Freya had realised that their parents were still having sex and able to reproduce.  And now that Sabrina was around and loudly making her presence known most of the day and night, Merlin was looking for all possible ways to make money so that he could leave home and the screaming infant as soon as he could.

“Well Merlin can sing to him, that’s the song we’ve recorded together so he knows it well.  And he’s got a great voice.  Obviously got it from you, Hunith!”  Uther looked around, and Merlin thought he looked a little hopeful.  “Balinor didn’t come with you then?”

Hunith smiled a little sadly.  “You know how stubborn he is.  And anyway, he’s working.  Otherwise he could have looked after Sabrina for me.”

“Working?  I’d like to hear what he’s up to these days.  Hunith, why don’t you bring the baby up to the house, you can have lunch and we can catch up.  Morgana will look after your children, and they have their brother here.  Cat, you stay too, put Hunith’s mind at ease.”

“Oh, is this Catweazle?” Hunith exclaimed. 

Gwaine snorted with laughter, so Lance cuffed him round the head.  Arthur blushed an angry red.

“I go by the name Arthur.”

“Which is an old man’s name,” Uther growled.

“And Catweazle isn’t?” Hunith pointed out.  “I’m so sorry, Arthur, I didn’t realise.  Mine all changed their names as well, it’s very confusing.  But never mind that, don’t you look so much like your mother?  How tall and handsome you’ve grown!  She would have been so proud.”

Arthur had narrowed his eyes at the mention of Hunith’s children having changed their names.  He gave Merlin an enquiring look, and Merlin knew that as soon as Arthur got the chance he would be asking the obvious question.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Arthur, make yourself useful if you’re staying,” Morgana called.  “You can model one of the outfits too.”

“Oh yes!” Uther agreed enthusiastically.  “Get some shots of Cat with Merlin.  I’m looking for something for the album cover.  I have a shot of him as a child, but I want one of Cat as an adult too.  I’ll pay a bonus and there will be high profile credit if we use one of yours,” he added to Elyan.  “And it will publicise your line if he’s wearing one of your designs,” he told Morgana.  “I’ll have George bring some lunch down for you all, so no need to rush off.”

Uther was, Merlin thought, a very clever man.  He’d just given Elyan and Morgana some very juicy incentives to make sure there was a suitable shot, so that they would do all his persuading for him.  Arthur was fuming but was too much of a gentleman to lose his temper in front of Hunith and the children, and Uther almost certainly knew it.  Merlin watched him leave with Hunith and Gaius.  Lance and Gwaine seemed keen on hanging around the shoot.  Lance was happy to stay near his wife.  He had hurried over to help Gwen who was struggling to adjust one of the lights.  Gwaine in contrast had placed himself unhelpfully at the base of the steps where everyone who passed by had to squeeze past him.

A few minutes later Gwen and Lance took Mordred and Freya back up the steps to change.  That left Arthur with no delicate young ears to offend, and he let his feelings be known.

“I’m not posing for his bloody album!”

Elyan, who had been smiling enthusiastically ever since Uther’s offer, let out a soft groan of despair.

“You’ll do a shoot for me though,” Morgana urged.  “Come on, you’ve done it before when I’ve needed you and you looked so good that time.  You’ll be wonderful again.  The other suit is too big for Merlin, it’ll fit you perfectly.”

Arthur looked Merlin up and down.  “That’s not really a suit, Morgana.  It’s a…” – he paused, a faint flush tinting his ears – “it’s not a suit, anyway,” he finished lamely.

Merlin knew the outfit was quite tight in places.  It was also black leather, artistically slashed in places.  The worst one was just below the left buttock, although as long as he didn’t turn around or bend over Arthur wouldn’t be able to see that. 

“Try the other one on, I’m sure you two would look perfect together,” Morgana enthused.  “Blond and dark, yin and yang.  Go and sit in the stylist chair, they’ll punk up your hair a bit, you’ll look great!  Oh _please_ , Arthur.  For me!”

Merlin had no doubt that Arthur would look great, but he wasn’t sure that he could cope with the sight of the man in one of Morgana’s sexy creations.  And he wasn’t fooled, he knew one of those shots would probably end up on the album cover.

Sure enough, as soon as Arthur disappeared up the steps to reluctantly change, Morgana started issuing instructions.

“Okay, we don’t do anything that will make him look bad, I want some great shots here.  But we’re aiming for that album shot. If we don’t provide Uther with something then he’ll get someone else to do it, and Arthur really won’t like that.”

“He doesn’t want to be on the cover at all,” Merlin pointed out.  “He’ll refuse.”

“Do you really think Uther is going to listen? He’s convinced that he’s producing something that’s a tribute to Arthur, he really does believe he’s supporting him in his own strange way.  So we have to do whatever we can to make it less awful.  Because if we don’t, I think there’s a risk he might even use that now famous shot of Arthur’s backside!”  Morgana almost spat in disgust.

Gwaine’s grin broadened.  “That would sell!  I’d buy a copy!”

“Shut up, Gwaine,” Morgana snapped. “Poor Arthur, he’s devastated by that picture.  And we’re not giving that creep Cedric the opportunity to make even more money out of it.  Arthur will end up on that cover whether he likes it or not, I just want to make sure that the photos are done by people who care about him.”

“I think Morgana’s right,” Elyan put in.  “I’m only going to aim for something tasteful that he won’t hate.  Hopefully.  I’ll see if I can get some wistful solo shots from him.”

“Agreed,” Morgana said. “But I’d like some with Merlin too.  Nothing wrong with promoting Uther’s new singer.”

Uther’s albums never failed to go at least platinum, often multiple times.  Even on the digital downloads the cover art would still be visible, possibly more so.  It was a massive promotional opportunity for all of them.  But at least Morgana’s main concern appeared to be damage limitation for her brother.

That was something.

Arthur didn’t know how he always managed to end up in situations that he really didn’t want to be in, but somehow it always seemed to happen.  Usually as a direct result of either his father or his sister’s intervention.

Morgana’s stylist had ‘done’ his hair.  Doing his hair meant putting a lot of product on it, giving it a ‘little trim’ (which it really didn’t need, Arthur was sure) that had turned out to mean that quite a lot of hair was on the floor around the chair.  But it was hard to tell what it would look like when done properly (i.e. the neat style that Arthur liked) because there was a lot of flicking and spray and gel, and honestly by the time it was finished it just looked a mess.

And then there was the ‘suit’. It wasn’t a suit, any more than Merlin’s had been.  It was charcoal grey instead of the black that Merlin had been in, but it sported those same slashes in the material.  Some had the lining showing through, others had bare skin.

“It’s distressed,” Gwen told him as she rearranged the jacket over the waistcoat. Apparently there was no shirt.  Or tie. 

“I bet it is.”

“It looks good on you.”

Arthur doubted that.  It was rags, after all.  But if it was what Morgana wanted, and would keep her out of his (messy) hair, then he would go along with it.  Reluctantly he followed Gwen and Lance back down into the grotto.

“Arthur, finally.  Oh you look perfect!” Morgana exclaimed. 

Beside her, Merlin seemed to be attempting to catch flies or something.  He was gaping at Arthur, not even trying to hide the fact that he was staring.  Great.  Arthur obviously looked ridiculous.  Gwaine gave a low whistle, but that could be teasing.  Although Gwaine generally was pretty nice to Arthur and didn’t tease him as a rule, Arthur didn’t usually appear in one of Morgana’s torn-up outfits.

“Lookin’ good, Princess,” Gwaine called.  That really was enough.

“I’m going back to change,” Arthur grumbled, and turned towards the steps.  Gwaine blocked the way, spreading his hands apologetically.

“Sorry, I’ve got orders from your sister.  Honestly Arthur, you look good.  Let Elyan take the pictures.”

“He takes really great pictures!”  That was from a young, dark-haired girl who Arthur vaguely remembered was Merlin’s little sister.  She was in one of Morgana’s pieces as well, although it was decidedly more demure than most of Morgana’s designs.  “Oh please do it!”

“Now we don’t want to disappoint Freya, Arthur.  She’s our guest and I’ve promised her mother that we’ll look after her,” Morgana purred.  “Play nice.”

Merlin hadn’t said anything.  He was still staring at Arthur. 

“Fine, I’ll do it.  And stop gaping, Merlin, you look just as foolish as I do in these scraps!”

Merlin didn’t look foolish, he looked positively edible, but Arthur wasn’t going to let him know that.  Not while the man was staring at him like that.  At least Arthur’s words made him stop.

“I…” Whatever Merlin was about to say was silenced with a warning look from Morgana.  Instead he sat down on one of the low stone walls around the edge of the grotto.  “I’ll just sit here then.”

“Good.  Arthur, over here, sit in front of the fountain,” Morgana instructed. 

Elyan followed him over and started getting Arthur to sit and then stand in different poses, adjusting the lights and shifting everything around.  He probably reeled off a few hundred shots before moving Arthur over to sit under the fairy statue.

“Ah, that’s good.  See if you can look downcast, look sad… perfect… Someone get him a rose.”

“A rose?” Arthur queried, but nobody explained and a few moments later he was holding a white rose in his hand.  It was drooping over his knuckles, but apparently that was what Elyan wanted.

There were a lot of shots then, and a large number of expressions, most of them miserable.

“Perfect.  Merlin, sit with him.  Tell him some stupid jokes or something.  Make him laugh.”

Arthur could see where this was going, but decided to just get it over with.  Merlin was looking at him worriedly, obviously a complete amateur.  Still, with modelling Arthur was too.  He gave Merlin a small smile. 

“You’re supposed to be making me laugh, not cry.  Here,” he handed over the drooping rose.  “This is almost as sad as you are!”

Merlin dipped his head for a moment, then looked up at Arthur from beneath his lashes as he tossed the flower away and damn if that wasn’t the most attractive thing ever.  He could hear the camera shutter coming down over and over.

“Oh my god they’re flirting.  And I have to watch.  Kill me now!” Mordred groaned, then gave a yelp of pain as Freya hit him.

Merlin blushed, but laughed, and Arthur found himself laughing too.  There was something infectious about Merlin’s laughter.  And all the time that damn camera was going. 

Lost in Merlin’s smile, Arthur found that he didn’t care.

Elyan’s pictures turned out great.

Not so much the ones of Vivien, and Morgana did comment on seeing them that she found it hard to believe the woman was a professional model.  But the ones of the twins were lively and fresh, and the ones of Arthur and Merlin were everything Morgana said that she’d hoped for. 

Of course, Uther wanted the ones of Arthur for the album.  Arthur had known that would happen, but at least they were done by a professional photographer, rather than a fuzzy candid shot taken nearly two decades earlier. 

If he was honest, he liked the shot that Uther had chosen.  But he would never tell his father that.  Arthur hadn’t realised at the time that Elyan was including his mother’s statue in the photo.  But there it was, standing over him, arms reaching to the heavens while her son looked despondent and alone.  And it didn’t look that much like Arthur either, the hair fashionably mussed and the clothes… well, they weren’t what he would choose to wear.  So if Uther had his heart set on dedicating the album to Arthur then he might as well use the picture. 

On the back cover was one of the shots with Merlin. 

They were sitting close together, laughing (at nothing, as far as Arthur could recall, although Gwaine had started telling ridiculous jokes at one point to try to keep them smiling) and looking for all the world as if they only had eyes for each other.  If Arthur hadn’t known better he would have thought it was two people in love.  Merlin was a performer, and Arthur expected him to be able to fake emotions like that.  He hadn’t realised he could do it himself.

People would think they were together.  It wouldn’t be helped by the publicity fake dates that Uther wanted them to do.  And Arthur had no wish to fall for another one of his father’s singers.  That could happen with Merlin even more easily than it had with Cedric.  Merlin was far more attractive, to Arthur’s eyes at least.  They fit easily together and after the difficult start they were now getting along.  It was only a matter of time before things developed, unless Arthur took steps to start avoiding Merlin.

At least they’d finished recording the album and Merlin was no longer constantly around the house.  That was something.  Actually, it was a bit quiet.  Gwaine, Lance and Cenred weren’t around much either, and Morgana was completely tied up with getting things ready for her new boutique.  Often it was just Arthur and Uther at dinner in the evening.   Sometimes it was only Arthur.  He seemed to be the only one of his family who didn’t have a successful career to fill his life.  It was depressing.  He felt like a complete failure.

That picture on the front of Uther’s new album seemed to sum him up entirely.  The one on the back with Merlin was of a totally different Arthur, one that didn’t exist.

Arthur had no intention of allowing it to.  Not with one of his father’s singers, at least.

The weeks passed.  Morgana’s boutique hit a few snags and the sale hadn’t gone through as quickly as planned. She was apparently on the phone constantly, or out at her office trying to iron things out with Agravaine.  Merlin never saw her on the few occasions that he visited the studio.  He’d had a couple of emails from her, sending through some of the best shots for Freya as promised but aside from that there was no contact.  There was nothing from Arthur either, but Merlin wasn’t surprised about that.  Disappointed, perhaps, but not surprised.

Merlin had hoped, after the photo session and the impromptu duet, that things might improve between them.  Arthur had seemed freer, happier.  But it must have been just posing for the camera.  Arthur had grown up in the limelight after all and would be used to it.  He would probably be just as professional on the fake dates that Uther had planned for them.  Still, at least Merlin would get a free dinner or two out of it.  Damn, but Arthur had looked so good with his hair mussed and out of the stuffy clothes that he usually wore.  Who was Merlin kidding?  Arthur looked good anyway, but the transformation had been breathtaking.  Literally. 

Hopefully Arthur would be his usual buttoned-up self on any dates if they actually happened.  If he wasn’t, Merlin definitely wasn’t going to have any alcohol in case he ended up making a fool of himself and showing Arthur how he felt.  Still, there were other things to worry about before that.

Uther and Merlin’s duet was going to be the first single taken off Uther’s new album.  It would be going out a few weeks before the album was released.  They’d filmed a video in some run-down warehouse, all black and white and moody.  The end product looked great.  And much like recording the album it had been exciting at first.  And then they had needed to do the same pieces over and over and over again.  It had become boring, tiresome.

Uther seemed to take it all in his stride.  He’d been doing it for decades after all.  Also, because he knew what he was doing he didn’t need too many takes.  Merlin, on the other hand, didn’t have a clue and had to do his parts over and over until both the director and Uther were satisfied.  This meant he was climbing up and down a fire escape at the side of the warehouse for hours on end. By the end of the day Merlin was ready to go home, crawl into bed and sleep for a week.

Uther, on the other hand, was talking about them all going out for drinks to celebrate a successful production.  It had been a hectic few weeks and Merlin was shattered, so when Lance announced that he was going straight home to his wife, Merlin left as well. It was probably career suicide, but Merlin had stopped caring.

Just as he was getting into his car, George ran up to him.

“Don’t forget the interview tomorrow.  I’ve emailed you the details.”

Merlin had been too busy to do more than give his phone a brief glance.  He pulled it out of his pocket to check and sure enough there was a message from George.

“It’s on television!” Merlin exclaimed.  “Tomorrow!”

“Yes.  Be there in plenty of time.  Wear black so you match Uther. Make sure you emphasise what an honour it’s been working with him, and what a great person he is.  Let Uther and Gaius do most of the talking.”

 _“George!”_ Uther yelled from the entrance of the warehouse.  George immediately snapped to attention.

“But…” Merlin began, then realised he was speaking to an empty space as George dashed away to see what Uther wanted. 

It would be fine.  Uther and Gaius would be there and would tell him what to say.  It _would_ be fine…

Merlin had never done a TV interview in his life.

Having Uther and Gaius there beside him helped a little, but Merlin really, really thought he was going to throw up.  He must have looked as if he was going to as well, because various members of the crew kept coming up to him and checking that he was okay.

There had been a couple of magazine interviews already, with the single due for release the following Friday, but those weren’t too bad.  They’d focused on Uther, and Merlin had only been asked a few quite simple questions.  This was different.  This was live in front of a studio audience.  And Helen Mara’s show was prime time Saturday night TV.  It was hardly a gentle easing in.

“Don’t look so worried, lad,” Gaius assured him.  “She’ll talk to Uther most of the time, she always does.  And the studio audience is always full of Uther fans.  They probably won’t even notice you’re there.”

How wrong he was.

The studio audience was scary, and it was loud.  Uther’s fanclub seemed to make up most of it, and Merlin imagined that they would all hate a young unknown singer who had somehow been lucky enough to record with their idol.  It was difficult to tell amid all the cheering and clapping when Uther walked out but Merlin was quite certain he could hear someone shout his name too.  He was glad that he couldn’t make out what they had said in addition because he was quite sure it wouldn’t be anything good.

“Uther, darling!” Helen Mara was kissing her greetings.  Merlin blanched because it was _Helen Mara_ and there were probably several million people watching.  But she was quite professional, and it was barely more than an air kiss for Merlin. 

“So,” she said once they were all seated on the not anywhere near as comfy as it looked sofa.  “Welcome to _Mara_!  This is almost an annual visit, Uther.”

“You know I just can’t keep away from you!”

Oh god, they were going to flirt all through the show Merlin thought.  He glanced at Gaius, but apparently the famous producer had fans too and was far too busy waving to them to take any notice of Uther and Helen.  There was a monitor in front of them.  Merlin leaned forward to peer at it and then realised that he could see himself on there, leaning forward and looking as if he was peering at the table because the monitor couldn’t be seen on screen.  He sat up quickly,

“Such a naughty boy!” Helen cooed, all her attention still on Uther.

Merlin imagined how Morgana would probably sit there with her fingers down her throat at that.  He smiled, and might have given a small snort of laughter.

Helen’s attention immediately shifted to Merlin.  There was something about her gaze that sent off warning bells, as if she wasn’t quite as nice as she pretended to be.  Still, to have climbed her way to the top of the chat shows on prime time Saturday night TV she was unlikely to be genuinely nice at all.

“So Uther, this is your new protégé? Do tell us all about him.”

Uther glanced around as if he’d forgotten Merlin was there.  Which was quite possible because Helen’s proudly-displayed cleavage was probably very distracting if you swung that way.  “Ah yes, Merlin.  Everyone, please welcome my substitute son!”

And then Merlin suddenly understood exactly what it was like to be Arthur.  Uther made him stand up and wave at the audience.  The audience clapped and cheered but Merlin supposed that was almost certainly because their king had told them to.  It was deadly embarrassing.

“Enough adulation,” Helen purred.  “Do sit down, Merlin.  We don’t want it going to your head!”  She smiled widely at the audience, and there was laughter.

But Uther wasn’t finished.  “Merlin is singing a duet with me on the new single.  He’s really very good, he’s doing most of the backing vocals on the rest of the album too.”

“Ah yes, your new song.  This is quite special to you, isn’t it Uther?”

“Very much so.  The entire album is dedicated to my real son, Cat.”

A picture of Arthur appeared on the large screen behind them.   Merlin could barely see it on the tiny monitor so turned around to look.  Arthur was shown sitting in a restaurant beside Morgana, looking less than happy at having his picture taken while Morgana was smiling brightly for the camera.  Gaius quickly tapped Merlin’s arm, and when Merlin turned back Gaius mouthed that he should stay facing front.

“Ah, poor Catweazle,” Helen sighed.  “We all saw the newspaper articles.  Dreadful thing to do to the poor dear boy.”

It was dreadful enough that several of the red tops appeared on the screen, quickly followed by a close up of the most popular picture.  Merlin desperately hoped that Arthur wasn’t watching.  The audience were though.  There were a few whistles, but mostly murmurs of anger because these were Uther fans and obviously they supported him completely.  And because what the Cedric and the press had done was disgusting.

“It’s disgraceful how low some people will go,” Uther agreed.  “Helen, please have that picture removed from the screen, it’s very offensive.”

The screen flicked back to the picture of Arthur and Morgana. 

“There,” Helen told the audience.  “Isn’t that better?  Though that other picture does bring up an interesting question…”

Merlin gritted his teeth.  He had a feeling the question wouldn’t be interesting at all, but either offensive or intrusive.

He was right.

“I thought you hated _Mara_?” Morgana commented on finding Arthur sprawled on a sofa in the home cinema, watching the show with interest.

Arthur hadn’t heard her come in.  He was actually watching Merlin in his first interview, and had hoped to enjoy it in peace.  No such luck.

“Dad’s on there.”

“Yeah, right, like you watch anything he’s ever in. Oh look, it’s Merlin too.  Well that explains why you’re watching it.”

“I need to know what’s going on with this wretched song.  Otherwise next time I’m out I could get caught unawares by some stupid journalist.  That’s all.”

“Of course it is.  Nothing to do with a chance to ogle Merlin at all.  Aww doesn’t he look adorable!” To Arthur’s dismay Morgana settled herself down on the sofa beside him. 

“Don’t you have a boutique to open or something?”

“Not yet.  Oh dear…” 

The picture of Arthur’s backside filled the screen.

“Oh god,” Arthur groaned.  “Are they never going to give that up?”

Apparently not. It vanished quite quickly after Uther protested, but still millions of viewers had yet again seen Arthur’s bare arse.  On the screen, Helen was asking her next question, and it wasn’t anything to do with Uther’s new album.

“So how does Cat feel about being on the shortlist for Rear of the Year?” Helen asked pleasantly.  “I must say, I think he’s a strong contender.”

_“What?”_

Arthur wasn’t sure who’d said it first – himself, Morgana, Uther, Gaius or Merlin.  Helen was of course sitting there looking terribly pleased with herself at her guests’ reaction.

“They can’t do that, surely?” Arthur breathed.  He looked to his sister.  “Tell me I can get my name taken off that?”

Morgana gave him a sympathetic half-smile, shaking her head.  “I don’t know exactly how it works, but I don’t think so.  It’s one of those awful unofficial things I think.  People vote in on a website.  Gwaine got nominated a few years back.”

“Well Gwaine wouldn’t care.  In fact he’d _love_ that!  My god, Rear of the Year.  Employers are really going to take me seriously after this.”

Morgana winced, and picked up the remote.  “Maybe we should turn this off?”

“No!  I want to hear what they say!”

Uther had been speaking while they were talking.  He wasn’t flirting any more, he looked angry.  “…gross invasion of his privacy.  And it makes it worse every single time that picture gets shown.  Presumably you’re paying royalties to the photographer?  What kind of message does that send out to people?  That it’s not only okay to treat someone you sleep with like that, but it’s profitable too?  Really, Helen, I expected better.”  He looked out towards the audience, still grim-faced.  “It’s appalling, right?”

Naturally, as the audience was largely made up of Uther’s fans, there was a great deal of reaction, and Arthur was gratified to note that it was all in his favour.  He wasn’t naïve enough to believe that it would stop the pictures ever getting shown again, but it was good to feel supported.  Even if the support in this case was largely for his father rather than Arthur himself.

“He’s probably going to use this to promote the album,” Arthur sighed.  “Somehow he’s turning this negative into a positive for him, and making himself look really good while doing it.”

“I know,” Morgana told him.  “But I really do think he means well.  It’s all a bit misguided, but he really is livid with Cedric for what he did to you.  He wants to support you and this…” she waved at the screen.  “It’s all he knows.”

Uther had started talking about the album, and how he was dedicating it to Arthur (or, being Uther, how he was dedicating it to _Cat_ ).  Arthur rolled his eyes, and Morgana laughed.

“It’s not funny,” Arthur protested.  “How would you like it if the one after this gets called _Periwinkle_ and it’s all about you?”

“I’ve told him he can try it if he likes.  I’ll start referring to myself as Winkle if he ever uses that name and we’ll see who gets the most disturbed by it the fastest.  Haven’t you ever wondered how I convinced him to call me Morgana? We had possibly the most distressing conversation of his life. He was backing out of the room!  And he never called me Periwinkle or _Topsy_ ever again.  I love being the only girl in this family, by the way.  It’s such fun!  Obviously if he wants to write a tribute to me and call it _Morgana_ or _Queen_ or anything suitable like that then it’s just fine with me.  I’ll veto it, of course.”

She looked so pleased with herself that Arthur couldn’t help laughing along with her despite the distressing scenario on the television. 

“I wish I was you,” he admitted.

“God no, you’d waste it being boring dear brother!  You just be yourself.  One stuffed suit in the family is enough thank you.  Though if you would only let me dress you, you could be the poster boy for my range. You and Merlin together… which is a happy thought too by the way.”

“I’m really not interested,” Arthur lied.  He didn’t have a hope in hell of Morgana believing him, but he could at least try.

“You really should get to know him, he’s such a sweetheart… Oh!  Hush!  She’s asking him a question!  Oh look at his little face!”

Merlin looked much like a rabbit caught in headlights, Arthur thought.  Helen was leaning forward, past Uther who was still looking quite annoyed at the whole thing.

“…and also we all want to know just how you managed to get such a great opportunity!”

“Um…” Merlin began, but Gaius stepped in smoothly. 

“Merlin auditioned like everyone else.  We didn’t promote the job as working with us, so we mostly only had candidates interested in the job rather than in the Pendragon/Jones name.  Merlin impressed me, I took him on and after a short time in the studio Uther was convinced too.  Merlin’s a good singer, as you’ll hear for yourself shortly when Uther and Merlin perform the new single.”

Helen’s eyes narrowed, but it was only momentary.  She turned to smile widely at the audience.  “That’s wonderful!  We all can’t wait, can we?  But there’s one more question and this time for you Merlin.  Do you think you got the job because of your father?”

“Oh for god’s sake,” Gaius snapped.  “Of course he didn’t.”

“Merlin’s father” – Helen continued to talk sweetly to the audience – “is Balinor Emrys.” There was a buzz of excitement from the audience.  “Ah, I see some of you recall him from the early days of The Dragons.  Uther and Balinor used to compose a lot of the early work together.  Then there was a rift and we’d all heard you weren’t speaking.”

A picture of a very young Balinor and Uther on stage side by side appeared on the screen behind the guests.  Merlin did look round, and the camera immediately zoomed in on his startled expression.  But Merlin evidently didn’t realise attention was on him, as he then grinned widely at what was after all quite a funny picture of his father.  And Uther, to be fair.  Both men were dressed in garish seventies gear and sporting long, greasy haircuts.  Or perhaps not actually hair _cuts_. 

“That is so not a good look,” Morgana breathed.  “Oh Uther, you really were a state.”

“Whatever did our mothers see in him?” Arthur agreed.  “How were we ever born?”

“I haven’t seen Balinor in years,” Uther growled from the TV screen in front of them.  “This is irrelevant, we’re supposed to be talking about the new single and album.”

“So we are!” Helen exclaimed.  “And what better way than to hear this song.  Assuming you can actually sing, given that you’ve yet to utter a word,” she added to Merlin.

“Nasty witch,” Morgana growled. 

If Merlin had looked nervous before, he looked positively sick to his stomach after that cruel jab.  Arthur saw him glance worriedly at Gaius, who just shook his head reassuringly.  But it wasn’t Gaius that Merlin would have to stand up and sing with.

“Haven’t they even briefed him on what to expect?” Arthur asked.  “He looks terrified.  That’s not going to encourage him to answer her questions.  She’s just added to his stage fright!”

“Obviously you’re just scary, Helen,” Uther had replied in defence of Merlin, although that probably didn’t help either as it drew further attention to the nerves Merlin was clearly suffering from.  Arthur knew what that was like when faced with the press. 

 “Nonsense, I’m a pussycat!” Helen purred, drawing laughter from the audience.  “Now Merlin, what does your father think of all this?  Is he considering a reconciliation with Uther?  Or is he going to be watching this interview and getting a huge surprise at what you’re up to?  Hmmm?”

“He’s not particularly happy about it,” Merlin told her.

“Oh no, don’t say that,” Morgana gasped.  “The press is never going to leave that one alone. Honestly, did nobody warn him about what not to say?”

“Really?” Helen looked around at the audience with a theatrically shocked expression.  “Do tell!”

“He wanted me to sing with his band instead.”

It would be better, Arthur thought, if Merlin had continued to remain silent. 

“Ah, his band,” Helen repeated.  “So you had a choice between one of the most successful acts on the planet” – she gestured towards Uther – “or… what was your father’s little band called again?”

More laughter.  Merlin looked devastated. Uther stepped in at that point and managed to change the subject. 

“This is a disaster,” Arthur complained.  “He’s an unsigned artist, they should be looking after him.”

“Hmm…” Morgana considered for a moment then gave Arthur a pointed look.  “Really, he needs a manager before someone gets him signing a bad contract.”

“Yes!”

“All we need is to find a good business manager who needs a job.”

Arthur just looked at her, because he’d walked straight into that one.  Although she was right.  It wasn’t quite the sort of management he’d wanted to go into, but he certainly knew enough about the industry to make a fair stab at it.  And it would solve a lot of problems both for him and for Merlin.  And it could be a real challenge, something to get his teeth into. 

On screen, Uther and Merlin were getting up from the sofa and heading across the studio floor.  Uther had his hand on Merlin’s shoulder reassuringly, and was saying something to him.  Arthur hoped it was words of encouragement but you never knew with Uther.  But then it would benefit Uther for Merlin to look as good as possible out there.  A disastrous duet at this early stage wouldn’t help sales.  So they probably were encouraging words.  Merlin looked slightly brighter, anyway.

The lights were dimmed in the studio, and the spotlight focused on Uther. 

 _“It's not time to make a change_  
_Just relax, take it easy_  
_You're still young, that's your fault_  
_There's so much you have to know_  
_Find a boy, settle down_  
_If you want you can marry_  
_Look at me, I am old, but I'm happy”_

“He’s changed girl to boy,” Arthur commented.  “Oh please tell me this whole Cat album thing isn’t a rehash of old songs that he’s made gay-friendly?

“I don’t think so,” Morgana told him.  “The other tracks are all original songs from what I understand.”

The song suited Uther’s voice.  He sang the second verse, and all the time Merlin was standing there behind him, in the shadows.  Then when verse three was due to start, Merlin stepped forward into the spotlight.  He still looked nervous, but less so.

_“How can I try to explain, cause when I do he turns away again  
It's always been the same, same old story...”_

“Merlin’s doing fine,” Morgana commented at the end of the verse.  “And the nervous look works for the song too.”

Arthur hadn’t realised just how good Merlin’s voice was.  He was going to go far, given the correct guidance.  Morgana was right, Merlin did need someone to manage him or he was going to get chewed up and spat out by the music industry. 

Uther was singing the fourth verse, but he was smiling at Merlin now, obviously pleased with the performance.  And that seemed to rub off on Merlin too, who sang the final verse with far more feeling.

 _“All the times that I cried, keeping all the things I knew inside_  
_It's hard, but it's harder to ignore it_  
_If they were right, I'd agree, but it's them they know not me_  
_Now there's a way and I know that I have to go away_  
_I know I have to go.”_

There was rapturous applause from the audience as soon as the song ended.  Merlin looked momentarily startled, then broke into a smile that looked more relieved than anything.  Uther was clearly delighted with how well it had gone.  He put one arm round Merlin’s shoulders, and pumped the air with his fist.  That just made the cheering louder.

“Good grief!” Arthur groaned.  “That man is just so embarrassing!”

“Mmm…” Morgana had got her phone out and was looking at it.  “But he’s trending on Twitter… Ah!  Merlin’s getting mentions too!  _#SexyGothBoy!  #Uthersson_! Okay, one or two people think Merlin’s his son… maybe they’ve forgotten your naked arse already, brother dear! I know I try to!”

Arthur gazed at Merlin’s pale face, those striking cheekbones jutting out more than ever under the studio lights.  He could well imagine that people would easily forget him, given Merlin to look at instead.

“Good.”

“Yes, well he’s already got a few fans on here.  He’s definitely going to need guidance and quickly before someone slaps _his_ naked arse across the front of the papers too!”

“He could be rear of the year instead,” Arthur pointed out.  He’d vote for Merlin…

“Guidance and protection, Arthur.  You wouldn’t come and work with me, so you can offer your services to Merlin instead.”  Morgana looked up from her phone with an evil smirk.  “You could offer to manage him too!”

“And you wonder why I didn’t want to work with you.”

Morgana just shrugged, and went back to looking at her phone.  Really she looked far too smug about it all.

On the screen the camera panned away from Merlin and Uther and onto Helen’s next guest.  Merlin had still been smiling though.

Arthur knew it was probably a terrible idea and would all go horribly wrong.  But next time he saw Merlin he would make the offer.  It had to be better than the endless round of failed interviews.

Probably.

Merlin was feeling pretty good.

The interview with Helen had generally been horrible, although she’d been a bit nicer later when he and Uther had gone back out to sit with the other guests.  But the song had gone down well, and when they left the studio later and Uther was besieged by his fans, Merlin found himself being asked for a few autographs and pictures too.  It had been a slightly surreal experience and he wasn’t entirely sure that he liked it.  But it was nice to be appreciated, and really good to have Uther and Gaius so pleased with him.  Uther was already talking about a tour for the album and that Merlin would need to make himself available for that.  It was all looking very good.

They all went off to a very exclusive club to celebrate, and that went on for hours.  Uther had just walked straight in and been shown straight to the VIP area.  And there they stayed.  Uther seemed to be holding court, with an endless stream of people coming up to him to congratulate him on the upcoming album.  Many of them told him what a great father he was, being so supportive to his son.  Merlin wasn’t happy about that, knowing that Arthur really didn’t like the idea of the album, but he was vastly outnumbered and completely out of his social depth, so he kept quiet. 

At one point Merlin was cornered by a music producer who was very keen to sign him up, but Gaius stepped in remarkably fast and sent the man packing.

“If you sign up with anyone, it’ll be with us,” Gaius had said.  “We’ll talk contracts tomorrow.”

And that was just the icing on the cake really.  Merlin had gone home on cloud nine.  And in Uther’s private limo as well.  He was sorry nobody would be awake to see it glide down his street and drop him at his door.

It was 3am when Merlin crept in through the back door as quietly as he could.  The last thing he wanted to do was wake the baby.

Sabrina wasn’t the one who was awake.

Sitting in the kitchen, face like thunder, was Balinor Emrys.  He’d been writing music judging by the number of screwed up balls of paper on the table in front of him.  They’d been banned from playing instruments when the baby was asleep, so that made the creative process doubly difficult.  It always put Balinor in a bad mood.  This time though, Merlin doubted it was the lack of creative flow that was causing the problem.

“Oh, hi Dad,” Merlin attempted.  “Sorry, I was trying to be quiet.  Hope I didn’t startle you.”

Balinor glowered at him from beneath his dark brows.  Merlin swallowed nervously.  He didn’t need to ask whether or not his father had seen his TV appearance earlier.

“You know, Merlin, you’ve always been the one I’ve had the highest hopes for.”

“Thank you,” Merlin said quickly, heading for the door to the hallway because this was a conversation that he didn’t want to have.  Especially not at three in the morning.  “That’s great to know.  I’m really tired so I’ll see you when I get up, yeah?”

“Sit down, boy.”

Reluctantly, Merlin did as he was bid, knowing a lecture was coming.  And his mother wasn’t even around to stop it.  “I guess you saw the show?”

“Yes.  Thank you for that.  I particularly enjoyed the part where that witch couldn’t remember the name of my band, and you didn’t correct her.  What happened, did you forget it too?  Surely it’s easy enough to remember?”

“Emrys.  Yes, sorry Dad.  She was scary though.”

Balinor snorted contemptuously.  “Scary.  I would have thought your new friends would have given you a briefing before you went on.  You made a fool out of me, boy.  In front of Uther too.  As if that toad hasn’t benefitted enough from me over the years!”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin attempted.  “But honestly, Uther isn’t so bad and he really wants to see you again.  He says he wants to make things up.  Gaius found some footage of the old band a few weeks back and showed me… Dad, I didn’t know you and Uther were in a band together!  And not just any band, you were in The Dragons! They were brilliant!  Why did you never say?  You always just said that you hated him but never said why. I don’t know how you kept it from us for so long.  Then Mum said I mustn’t mention it to you, but why aren’t you proud of it?  Uther says you were the best guitar player he’s ever worked with.  He says…”

“I don’t care what Uther says!” Balinor snarled. “I am sick of Uther bloody Pendragon and the way he’s lived off the success of The Dragons for all these years.  I’ve always gone on my own merit, I’m not interested in living in the past.”

“But you’d get better gigs!  Oh, but you don’t need them, do you?  We’ve been living off royalties from those early albums for all this time.  I always wondered how we had a fairly big house when neither of you have a particularly steady job.”

“Not as big as Pendragon’s though, is it?  And now my own son is over there singing away on national TV… and if that wasn’t bad enough, the two of you are doing some sort of bizarre father/son duet!  Why can’t he get his own son to do it?  Why take mine?  I wanted you to front _Emrys,_ boy.  Work with me.  All these years I’ve taught you to play, taught you to sing, and you’re handing it all to Uther on a plate.  You know what Freya said tonight when you were on the telly?  She had her phone out looking at that twitter thing.  She said people were saying you were Uther’s son on there!  Uther’s!”

“That’s just social media, it doesn’t mean anything,” Merlin protested, but Balinor shook his head.

“Get out of my sight, boy.  I’ve never been so disappointed in you.  Never.”

“But…”

“Go!”

It was pointless arguing. 

His night ruined, feelings of guilt weighing heavily on him, Merlin headed off to bed.  In the morning he could talk to his mother, and she would probably smooth things over.  But that didn’t change the fact that Balinor felt that way, and it couldn’t make the words unsaid.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn’t a date.

It absolutely, completely and utterly was _not_ a date. 

Arthur kept telling himself this.  He thought that if he repeated it enough times then maybe he would believe it.  This was just a ridiculous publicity stunt that his father had set up, nothing more.  And Merlin was late.

Arthur hadn’t seen Merlin since the _Mara_ interview.  He’d supposed that Merlin would be over at the house regularly to catch up with the rest of the band, but it had been quiet for several days.  There had been some magazine interviews apparently but those journalists had been carefully vetted by Gaius and Uther, and hadn’t come out yet anyway.  Friday was global release day for the single and Uther had been doing dozens of interviews over the phone and doing short video interviews for TV and internet slots. 

And then on the Wednesday, Merlin’s battered little car had appeared in one of the parking spots outside.  Not that Arthur got a chance to speak to him because Merlin was straight off with Uther to do some more publicity.  Afterwards Merlin had gone straight home again.  Apparently his father was giving him grief and he needed to spend as little time with Uther as possible.  Or so Uther told them over dinner that evening.  Bloody Balinor.  Uther might have said that as well.

Because of that, and _only_ because of that, Arthur finally gave in and reluctantly agreed to the pretend date that Uther was still pestering him about.  It looked like being the only opportunity that Arthur was going to get to spend enough time alone with Merlin to put his offer forward.  Uther didn’t know that, and was delighted.  He told George to organise it at once.  And so George did.  The following night, in fact, right before the day the single would be released.  Perfect timing as far as Arthur was concerned.

Like any good interviewee, Arthur had prepared.

He’d got a portfolio with all sorts of ideas for how Merlin could be marketed and promoted going forward. There were all sorts of things to do that Merlin might not even have considered yet.  The chat show hadn’t been great, but the reaction to it had shown that Merlin had great potential.  Arthur had grown up surrounded by the music business, and whilst Merlin had as well, Arthur’s interest was in managing, not performing.  They were in fact perfectly matched.  All Arthur had to do was convince Merlin of that fact.

Merlin, of course, was late.

It was a fact made worse by Arthur being early.  At first it wasn’t a problem because it gave Arthur a chance to settle in, order himself a drink and double-check all his information.  But after that he was just a man at a table for two, clearly waiting for someone who was either late or not coming at all.  Arthur was aware of other diners glancing over at him sympathetically as ten minutes turned into twenty.  Admittedly that was only actually ten minutes late because of Arthur’s over-prompt arrival but none of the people who thought he’d been stood up would know that. 

Arthur’s glass was almost empty and he didn’t really want to order another while sitting there alone. Mostly because he wanted a clear head for the discussion to follow.  He didn’t have Merlin’s number and was just considering whether or not it was late enough that he should call Morgana and get it from her (along with all the interrogating that would entail) when the doors of the restaurant burst open and Merlin came rushing in.  Arthur stood up and waved him over.

“Sorry… sorry… sorry…” Merlin was repeating as he hurried across the room.  It wasn’t even all apologies to Arthur as he was managing to knock into half the customers and finally capped it all by tripping over his own feet. 

It occurred to Arthur that managing Merlin might have all sorts of problems that he hadn’t even considered.  But he liked a challenge.  He stood up to greet Merlin, shook his hand (Merlin did do a bit of a double take at that) and then waited for Merlin to sit down.

Merlin looked around nervously.  “Why are we standing up?”

“I’m politely waiting for my client to take his seat.  It’s called manners, Merlin.”

Merlin eyed him curiously.  “Your client?  I thought this was” – he lowered his voice to a whisper – “a fake date?”

“Sit down,” Arthur instructed.  Merlin pulled out his chair noisily and sat in it, still looking with puzzlement at Arthur who sat down opposite.  “It’s not a date.”

“But your father said…”

Arthur put up his hand to stop Merlin talking.  “I have a proposal.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow.  “On a first fake date?  That’s a bit soon, Arthur!”

“Funny. A _business_ proposal.  For you.  So, I’m treating you to dinner, and I want you to hear me out.  Deal?”

“Isn’t your father paying for our dinner anyway?”

“Technicality. I'll pay, and if he wants to refund me then he can.” 

The waiter chose that moment to come over and take their order.  It was an irritating interruption, particularly as Merlin didn’t know what half the things on the menu were.  Finally the man went away and Arthur could get back to his sales pitch.

“Now, I was watching your interview the other day…”

Merlin groaned.  “Oh god, please don’t tell me I insulted you in it too. My father’s barely speaking to me!”

Arthur laughed at that.  Merlin really did look horrified.  “No, not at all.  But it gave me an idea.  You’re just starting out and you haven’t got anyone supporting you – no agent, no promoter, nobody making sure you get to places on time… why was it you were late today by the way?”

“My car wouldn’t start so I had to get the bus.”

“Good example.  Nobody to arrange your transport, nobody to advise you what to say in interviews.  And pretty soon someone is going to offer you a recording contract, because you’re really good and because you’re having a very high-profile first single with my father.”

“I’ve already got a contract!” Merlin told him proudly.  “Gaius and Uther are going to sign me onto their label!”

“Please tell me you haven’t signed it yet.”

Merlin’s face fell.  “No, they’re still drawing it up… but they’ve given me a good opportunity.  And they’re huge. I want to sign with them.”

“And there’s no reason why you can’t.  But you don’t sign the first contract you’re given.  You need your own people to look these things over, make sure you get the best deal.  I’m not saying those two will rip you off, but you’ve seen where we live.  Gaius’s home is pretty impressive too.  They know how to make money and you can rest assured that contract will benefit them at least as much as it benefits you.  So, you need someone in your corner working for you to make sure you get the best deal possible.  You need a manager.”

“How do I know the manager won’t rip me off too?  Anyway, I can’t afford one!”

“A manager takes a percentage of your earnings as their salary.  The better you do, the better they do.  So it’s in their interests to ensure you do as well as possible.  And luckily for you, the guy who graduated top of his year in Business and Management at Camelot Uni is currently available for work and interested in representing you.  So, what do you say?  Willing to hear me out?”

“What… you?”

Merlin could really be a bit dense sometimes, Arthur thought.  It was endearing though.  He really would flounder by himself in the industry.  A good manager was essential.  And Arthur was the best.  “Yes, of course me!  Now… oh.”

The waiter had arrived back with their drinks.  It was another annoying interruption, and the price to pay for trying to conduct business in a restaurant.  Arthur waited until the man had (slowly) opened the bottles of lager and then even more slowly poured the contents into glasses.

“Now, I’ve brought along some ideas,” Arthur picked up the folder and opened it up.  “Because you’re about to be launched straight into the public eye, we don’t need to do a lot of the promoting at this stage that we would normally do.  But also because of that abrupt launch we need to move quickly to ensure you have the correct public image going out there as well.  We’ll need to put together a press pack… do you have any prior recordings that could be included?”

“I’ve got some demos.  Would they be any good?”

“Maybe.  I’ll see what the quality’s like.  We’ll put the single with Uther in there, that’ll be fine for now.  Then there’s photos.  I thought Elyan did a good job for Morgana, we could use him for some promotional shots.  And we’ll need to agree on a style for you and work on that.”

“Morgana wants to design something for me to wear,” Merlin put in.  “But I sort of like my own clothes.”

Arthur hummed non-committedly, although he rather liked Merlin’s own clothes as well.  The tight black t-shirt with the dragon logo on it that he’d worn on _Mara_ had been simple but good enough.  “We’ll see.  Have you got any of your own songs?  I’d like to hear them, see if we can work them up enough to get them recorded, then perhaps you could do an exclusive evening or something after the single has charted.  Interest will be high, and we could make tickets difficult to get.  You can charge twice the price if it’s difficult to get.  You need a logo for your name, something recognisable, perhaps that dragon on your shirt could be worked into it?”

“Maybe.” Merlin took a sip of his lager, his eyes never leaving Arthur’s face.  “I like that.”

“Good!  So, do we have a deal?  Thirty-five per cent of your earnings goes to me, and I arrange everything.”

“Okay.”

Arthur groaned.  “Oh Merlin!  Thirty-five per cent? You really do need someone to look after you!  Somewhere between ten and twenty per cent is reasonable for a manager to request.  So we’ll say fifteen, does that sound fair?”

“I guess.”

“Why don’t you take this” – Arthur handed over the folder – “and think it over.  Let me know as soon as you’ve decided.  My mobile’s listed on there and there’s a copy of the contract I’d like us to sign.  Then if you’re up for it we can go in together and inspect this recording contract Gaius and my father are trying to get you to sign.”

Merlin opened up the folder and started looking through it.  He’d pulled out a copy of the draft press pack which had rather too many blank spaces in it, plus a prominent picture of Balinor Emrys.  “Oh, I don’t want people to think I’m just sponging off my dad’s past glories.”

Arthur could sympathise with that sentiment.  “I know what you mean.  I’m the same.  I just put that in there because I needed to fill some space.  If we start working together then the first thing we’ll do is sit down and decide exactly what we’re putting in there.  It won’t hurt to put in a bit about your father because if you don’t then the media will just write whatever they think.”

Their food arrived at that point, or at least the starter did.  It was a ridiculous thing that looked as if someone had painted green sauce in a stripe across the plate, laid a single chip in the centre of it, put a little pile of tiny lettuce leaves on top of the chip, and then grated parmesan all over it. 

“Can we go to Wetherspoons instead?” Merlin asked, poking at the lettuce pile.  “You get more than one chip in there.”

Arthur was tempted to agree.  In fact, on more than one occasion after eating at similar places he’d stopped on the way home at a Burger King or the like.  “It’s a business dinner, Merlin.  We don’t do those at Wetherspoons.”

“It’s supposed to be a fake date!” Merlin reminded him. 

“Good, we’ve got fake food!”

“Funny!”

“Did I not mention that when I was trying to convince you to take me on?  I’m extremely witty and great entertainment!”

“Hah!” Merlin speared the chip with his fork and ate half of it in one bite.  “I hadn’t noticed!  God, what does this cost?  Eight quid?  I just ate four quid’s worth in one mouthful.”

“I’m paying,” Arthur reminded him. 

“You’d get better value in Wetherspoons!”

“I get a discount in here!  And yes, I’m using my father’s name to get that.  He owes me, after saddling me with such an idiotic name myself!” Arthur took a bite of his own chip.  It really wasn’t very impressive.  He really should have paid more attention to the menu when they ordered, but he’d just pointed at the first thing he saw, eager to get back to his conversation with Merlin.  “Stupid man.”

“Why don’t you just change your name legally to Arthur?” Merlin suggested.  “It’s what I did.  Well, to Merlin, not Arthur, obviously.”

“You _chose_ to be called Merlin?”

“It was the least unbearable of the choices.  Mum cried when I said I was changing my name, so I had to keep one of them.”

“What were the others?” Arthur asked, curious.

“Never you mind,” Merlin said darkly.  “Let’s just say I’d almost take Catweazle.”

Arthur made a mental note to google Balinor and Hunith Emrys as soon as possible.  He glanced down at his phone, and Merlin gave a little groan.

“Oh no, don’t look it up.  My parents are sad, sad people.”

“You could just tell me!”

Merlin sighed, then leaned closer so that he could whisper the truth.  “Okay.  You’ll find out anyway now you know there’s something to look for.  It wouldn’t take much to search on the internet for my dad.  My parents decided to name their kids after famous wizards or witches.  Sabrina’s done okay, but the rest of us… well, I say it’s a form of child abuse and sometimes I tell them I’m going to sue them!”

“Names, Merlin.”

“Freya’s birth name is Madam Mim.  If you hear mum call her ‘madam’, that’s why.  Freya _will_ cry if she ever finds out that Morgana’s brother knows this about her,” he added, as Arthur started laughing. 

“Oh my god!  What about your sullen brother?”

“Harrypotter.”

“Well that’s not too bad.  Harry is a pretty normal sort of name.”

“It’s all one word.  It’s the most ridiculous of the lot. I caught Mordred burning the books once, he hated it so much.”

“And you?”

“Gandalf.  Gandalf Merlin.  I was just lucky Harry Potter hadn’t been written when I was born because I’d probably have Dumbledore in there too.  Another grey-haired old man!  I had to keep Merlin because it was the lesser of two evils.  And then they let Freya and Mordred choose names from the Arthurian legend to match me.  We’re all changed by deed poll so that nobody can call us by the names from hell.  You could do that too.”

“What, call you by your proper names?”  Arthur liked that idea.  “Are you Gandalf the grey or the white?”

“No, I mean you could change your name by deed poll.  Get rid of Cat once and for all.”

“I could.  My father probably wouldn’t cry but you never know.  He might channel all his distress into the next album.”

“He could call it Catless or something.”

“He might!  Oh, and Freya doesn’t need to worry about Morgana.  She’s got her own ridiculous name, it’s just that somehow she doesn’t get called it, ever!”

“Tell me!”

“Periwinkle Topsy!”

“Oh my god!”

“She’s terrorised our father into never calling her by either name ever again.”

Merlin was laughing so much there were actual tears at the corners of his eyes. “They’re all scared of her, they told me.”

“Who isn’t?”

Merlin leaned back in his chair, smiling at Arthur.  “I don’t think you are.  But that’s about it.  Oh, and that man, the one who came to the modelling shoot.  Agavay or something?”

“Agravaine.  I don’t trust him, I don’t think he’s the best person to be managing her business.  But it all seems to be going smoothly so far, so maybe I’m wrong.”

“I didn’t like him either,” Merlin confirmed.  “He was all over that Vivien, it was creepy.  Hey, why don’t you manage Morgana’s business for her?”

“Because you’re going to take up all my time,” Arthur replied.  “We’re going to convert my study into an office and operate out of there, so no overheads.  It’ll be brilliant.  Also once we’ve ironed out the contract with my father you’ll be close to the studio so can work whenever you need to.  We’ll have a solo single out in no time.  Then eventually an album and a tour.”

The main course turned up just then.  It was bigger than the starter but that wasn’t saying much.  There was a neatly cut square of meat and several perfect cubes of brightly coloured pulverised things that might have been vegetables.  There was also artistic dribbles of sauce in various colours.  And a single stem of lavender with half the petals pulled off for some reason.  Merlin looked down at his plate sadly.

“If I agree to sign with you, can we go somewhere that serves up proper portions instead in future?  This wouldn’t feed a little tiny mouse.”

Arthur tended to agree with him.  The cuisine was just a little bit too nouveau and not enough cuisine.  There was a chip shop on the corner.  It served up more than one chip at a time.  “It’s a promise.  Do we have a deal?”

Merlin glanced at the folder that he was supposed to be taking home to read, and then shrugged.  “Yeah, why not?  Let’s do it.”

“You know you were supposed to be going through that carefully?” Arthur pointed out.  “I could be ripping you off.”

Merlin shrugged.  “I don’t think you would.  It’s not like you need the money or anything.  You seem pretty straight.  Well… I mean… um…” Merlin floundered for a moment, blushing to the tips of his ears.  It was very distracting.  Arthur wondered if Merlin’s skin was as hot to the touch as it looked right then.  “Not straight like in straight but then not camp or anything and… oh god I really need a coach or something when I talk, don’t I?”

“Straight apart from the whole very public gay outing?  Is that what you’re trying to say?” Arthur asked.  He couldn’t help laughing at the horrified expression on Merlin’s face, and was thankful to see it fade at the laughter. 

“I’m trying not to say the wrong thing!” Merlin exclaimed. 

“Again!”

“Yes!” Merlin looked down at his plate, then back up at Arthur. “Are we going to have to start again again?”

“Again again?”  Honestly, Merlin had his very own language.  “No, you’re okay.  But oh my god Merlin, we’re going to have to go through what you can and can’t say in interviews!”

“I know!  When that woman said you’re on the shortlist for rear of the year, Arthur!  I don’t even know what I said!  What are you going to do if you win?”

“I won’t win,” Arthur assured him, picking up something that might have been a square carrot before the food processor attacked it.  “I’m not a proper celebrity, especially now I’m moving over to manage you.  People will forget.”

And then, right on cue, a reporter turned up at their table.  Arthur looked up at the tall blonde lady with some dismay.  He’d forgotten all about the fake date that they were supposed to be on. 

“Aha! I was tipped off that there was a date going on!” the woman reeled off a host of shots before Arthur and Merlin could say a word. 

“I’m his manager, not his date,” Arthur pointed out.

“Yes, yes, of course you’re not… So Arthur, how do you feel about getting nominated for Rear of the Year?  And Merlin, what’s it like dating the most admired bottom in all Albion?”

Arthur sighed.  He had a feeling that was just the first such question.

He wasn’t wrong.

Merlin was feeling pretty good.

Although it hadn’t been an actual date with Arthur the night before, things had gone very well and obviously they were now going to be spending a lot more time together.  There was probably some vague rule about not dating your manager, although he was fairly sure he’d seen news stories about singers who had married them, and his mother had taken over the management of his father’s career once Balinor had split from Uther.  Manager and their artist was a close relationship after all. 

The dinner, once the reporter with her ridiculous questions had left, was good.  Not the fancy food of course, but Arthur had taken him to the chip shop on the corner afterwards and they’d sat on a bench filling up on fat, greasy, delicious chips slathered in masses of salt and vinegar.  Looking after his needs, that’s what Arthur had said he was doing.  Arthur could look after Merlin’s needs any time he wanted… Merlin tried not to let his mind slide into the gutter with that thought.

Even getting home had been good.  Freya had left a note on his bed with a bar of chocolate and some printouts of pictures that Morgana had sent her.  The note was thanking him for being the best brother ever and promising to do all his chores.  It was unlikely to happen but it was a nice thought. Freya was still very excited and happy about the photoshoot, and Merlin made a note to take some flowers to Morgana as a thank you for continuing to be so kind to his little sister.

Balinor Emrys hadn’t been waiting up for Merlin again, so that was good too.  And then in the morning Merlin had managed to leave the house while his father was still in the shower, so avoided another argument.  Somehow Merlin doubted that his father would be very pleased that Arthur was going to be Merlin’s manager. 

At least his mother was supportive.  Enough that Merlin was driving her little car that morning while she called the RAC in to fix his.  Hunith Emrys was the best mother he could wish for.  She also seemed to be taking quite an interest in Arthur and was all in favour of him managing Merlin.  Merlin had his own suspicions as to why – Hunith was always talking about Merlin finding a ‘nice young man’ and supposed the smart, well-spoken Arthur would tick all her son-in-law boxes.  A pity that Arthur was probably only interested in the business aspect of things.

Still, it was very different coming into Pendragon Manor and being greeted by a friendly, welcoming Arthur.  Much better than their original meeting.  Arthur was standing in the doorway, waiting as Merlin parked Hunith’s car.

“Not late!” Arthur called to him as Merlin hurried across the driveway to the house.  “That’s an improvement!”

Of course, Arthur was going to be annoying.  That was a given.  But Merlin thought he could live with it.  He liked Arthur.  A bit too much, perhaps, but that couldn’t be helped.

“Good morning to you too!” Merlin retorted.  “Is this how it’s going to be from now on?  You having a go every chance you get?”

“Yep!” Arthur slung an arm around Merlin’s shoulders and led him inside.  “Why do you think I wanted to do this?  The opportunity to torment you every single day was impossible to resist!”

Every single day… perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea after all, Merlin wondered.  After all, Arthur was very attractive and at some point Merlin feared he’d become too drunk or just too stupid not to make a complete and utter fool of himself.  And then they’d still have to work together, and it would be beyond terrible.  Because Arthur really didn’t know how much he was starting to torment Merlin simply by existing.  The closeness of his warm body and the scent of his aftershave was a special kind of torture.  And it was all made worse because Merlin knew how little Arthur had wanted to even do a fake date.  He’d had a little hope when Arthur had finally agreed to it, but now it was clear that Arthur had only wanted to persuade Merlin to let him take on the manager role.

“I’ve got a copy of the contract upstairs,” Arthur continued happily.  “Did you read it through?”

Merlin had actually persuaded his mother to have a look at it that morning.  She was the business brain in the family, booking all of Balinor’s gigs for him.  Also she didn’t hate the sight of Uther and wasn’t going to have the same bias against his offspring that her husband did.  Of course, she had other hopes where Arthur and Merlin were concerned.  No need for Arthur to know any of that though.  Arthur would probably laugh if Merlin admitted that he’d shown it to his mum.

“I did,” Merlin said, leaving out the fact that he wasn’t the only one to have done so.  “Seems to be okay.  I’m happy to sign.  It would be good not to have to go it alone, really.  I was terrified when I was auditioning for Gaius and I didn’t even know it was him till he came out to talk to me at the end.  You’ll do all the talking, right?”

“I’ll arrange everything,” Arthur promised.  “But you’ll still be the one who has to do interviews, I can’t slap on a black wig and pretend to be you!”

“Wouldn’t suit you.” It would cover up that golden hair and that would just be a crime.

“I don’t know, I’ve always thought I might look good as a brunette!  But no, not doing it,” Arthur released Merlin as they reached the grand staircase leading up away from the hall.  “Come on, my rooms are up here.  You can see where we’ll work.”

Arthur’s rooms.  Plural.  Merlin couldn’t help feeling a little bit envious.  His own pokey little room at home with the too-thin walls just wasn’t going to compare.  He would definitely never let Arthur see that. 

“Just how many rooms have you got?” Merlin asked as Arthur opened the door to what turned out to be his bedroom. 

“Just the three,” Arthur replied, stepping aside to let Merlin in.  “I’ll have it all rearranged so this is turned into the office and people won’t have to walk through my bedroom.  Haven’t had a chance yet.”

Arthur’s bedroom was massive, and the giant bed at the far end with its red coverlet and pale sheets didn’t even seem that big in comparison.  But Merlin had a feeling that it would never have fitted into his own room.  It was all Merlin could do to fit in his little single bed.  It wasn’t that his parents were particularly hard up but they weren’t rich either. They had four children and five bedroom houses weren’t exactly cheap.  He could imagine his father’s reaction if Balinor Emrys ever saw the Pendragons’ home.

“Can I move in too?” Merlin asked, without thinking what he was saying.  Arthur’s jaw dropped and Merlin could feel his face burning with embarrassment. “I mean… I didn’t mean with you… Ah, I just meant if you had so many rooms and space and everything… I was joking.  Joking.  Oh god, I have to listen to Sabrina crying and Mordred’s horrible taste in music and honestly Arthur if you had to put up with that all the time you’d be opening your mouth and saying the wrong thing all the time too!”

Arthur had stopped gaping about halfway through Merlin’s little rant and was just looking amused now.  He raised an eyebrow at Merlin.  “Finished?”

“Yes.  You need to make this work because I’m just going to do more terrible, shameful interviews that make my family hate me if you don’t.  And I need to earn more money so I can find somewhere to sleep that doesn’t smell of nappies all the time.”

“Well we’d better get started then!” Arthur told him.  “First off, we both sign the contract that has me as your manager.  We’ll need an independent witness to the signatures just to make it airtight.”  He darted to the door and called to his sister.  “Morgana!  Is Gwen around?”

Arthur had to shout twice, rapping on Morgana’s door the second time.

“Maybe she’s still asleep?” Merlin ventured. 

“I heard her talking to someone before you arrived.  Hopefully it’s Gwen.” Arthur raised his hand to rap on the door again, but this time it opened to reveal a very harassed-looking Morgana on the other side.  “Ah!”

Morgana had her phone pressed to her ear, arguing with whoever it was on the other end.  She glared at Arthur, but didn’t stop her conversation.

“We were supposed to exchange today,” she snarled.  “I transferred the deposit, and I signed the papers on my side weeks ago.  How can you not have received the money?”

Gwen appeared at Morgana’s side, her smile slightly less bright than usual.  “We’re having a few problems with the purchase of the boutique,” she explained quietly, slipping past Morgana who went back into her room and slammed the door behind her.  “The funds haven’t transferred for the deposit and we can’t exchange contracts.  It’s probably just a computer glitch but it’s annoying.  Probably best not to disturb her until it’s sorted out though, she’s a bit cranky.”

“Nothing new there then,” Arthur quipped.  “Anyway, it’s you we want.  Merlin and I are going into business together, and we need you to witness our signatures on the contract.”

Gwen was happy enough to do that.  And she was a good choice because there weren’t too many of the snide remarks from her that they would probably have got if they’d called Gwaine up from the studio or something.  Not that he was likely to be up and around that early.

“And now you two are all legal,” Gwen beamed as she added her name to theirs.  “I think it’s adorable.  Can I be witness when you get married as well?”

Okay, so even Gwen couldn’t resist it.  Arthur rolled his eyes at her, took his pen back, and ushered her out.

“Thank you, Gwen.”

“Are you consummating now?  Remember Morgana and I are only next door and have young, impressionable ears…”

Arthur shut the door behind her with a sigh.  “And so it begins.  They’ll get bored soon enough.”

“Really?”

“No.  But it doesn’t matter because we’ll just find a way to get them all back for it.  Now, time to face my father and see exactly how much he’s trying to rip you off.”

Merlin decided that if he ever introduced Arthur to his own father then he was going to have to coach Arthur in what not to say. Uther ripping Merlin off would be top of the list…

Uther and Gaius were working down in the studio again.  Whatever Balinor Emrys thought, as far as Merlin could see Uther worked quite hard for his success. 

“Merlin!  And Cat!” Uther actually rubbed his hands together in delight when he saw them, immediately dropping the headphones he’d been listening to and coming over to greet them.  “Excellent work last night, I saw the papers this morning!”

Merlin looked to Arthur in puzzlement.  Arthur looked equally confused as Uther slapped him on the back and then draped his arm over Merlin’s shoulder.  Like father, like son.  Merlin vastly preferred it when Arthur did it though.

“What happened?” Arthur asked Uther.

“Exactly what we’d hoped!  The papers have you down as a couple, it’s great publicity for the single!”

“As long as that’s all it is,” Arthur grumbled.  “That woman was talking about the stupid rear of the year thing again.  It’s embarrassing.”

“Ah,” Uther looked slightly uncomfortable and released Merlin.  “Yes, that’s very unfortunate.  But we’re concentrating on the single release today, so don’t worry.  Early sales are going really well.  Perhaps the two of you could go on another date as the first one went so well?”

Merlin saw Arthur’s eyes narrow.  He could understand why – he felt the same suspicion himself about the focus of the story.

“What exactly did the article say?” Arthur asked carefully.  “Can I see it?”

George didn’t even need Uther to order him over, he was already at Arthur’s side with the paper in his hands.

“Mr Cat, Sir.” George gave a little bow and handed Arthur the newspaper.  Merlin managed to mostly smother a laugh but saw Arthur’s shoulders slump a little anyway and felt bad for having any sort of reaction.

“Please, like I keep telling you, just call me Arthur,” Arthur begged.  George just looked at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. 

“Mr Pendragon insists that I call you by your given name,” George told them.  He looked up at Uther hopefully. “Perhaps if Mr Cat doesn’t like it I should do as he wishes…”

“Go and get Merlin’s contract,” Uther ordered.  “And no more of this nonsense, Cat,” he added as George scuttled off.  “Why don’t you get a drink and go and read the paper up in the lounge or somewhere?”

Arthur just smiled at him, then spread the paper out over the nearest surface (which happened to be one of Gaius’ mixing decks).

 _‘Cat Pendragon’s New Love Page 4’_ declared one of the side headings on the front page.  There was a tiny head and shoulders picture of Arthur next to it.  Merlin watched as Arthur opened the paper, then read it over his shoulder.

_‘Has thwarted in love Cat Pendragon, son of megastar Uther, finally got lucky?  The handsome Rear of the Year finalist is hotly tipped to win the popular contest after some fine photographs emphasising his assets appeared in media outlets last month…’_

There were several of the offending pictures published yet again, just in case readers had forgotten Arthur’s shame.

_‘Cat was spotted last night looking pretty loved up at an intimate table in the back of an exclusive restaurant.  His new partner is none other than newcomer Merlin Emrys, who is currently featured on Uther’s latest single, due out today.  Merlin’s one lucky man if he’s getting his hands on one of the most admired backsides in the world.’_

“Oh my god,” Merlin breathed as he read that bit.  There was a picture of Merlin and Arthur.  Merlin had to admit that they did look fairly loved up.  It was probably the wine. 

_‘Both men denied there was anything going on, but I think we can all see the evidence for ourselves.  The cute couple were seen later sharing a bag of chips on a park bench and gazing into each other’s eyes, obviously in no hurry for the evening to end.  After Cat’s heartbreak earlier this year, we’re all hoping Merlin doesn’t turn out to be another gold-digger.’_

“Bloody nerve,” Merlin grumbled.  “I am not a gold-digger!  And I thought this was supposed to be a friendly journalist painting us in a good light?”

“No such thing,” Uther assured him.  “This is about as good as it gets.”

“Mmm, nice arse,” Cenred commented, looking over Arthur’s shoulder at the pictures.  Merlin hadn’t even heard him come in.  “Nearly as good as the original!”

Arthur jumped, and gave a little squeak of horror, shifting away from Cenred.  Merlin was fairly sure Cenred had pinched Arthur’s backside.  Fortunately he wasn’t the only one to be sure of that.

“Cenred, if you touch Cat again you’re fired!” Uther warned.  “Now get out!  We’re busy!”

If looks could kill then Arthur would probably be an orphan, Merlin thought as he watched Cenred make his way out of the studio.  Cenred didn’t fit in with Uther’s setup the way that Lance and Gwaine did.  Merlin certainly wouldn’t want to be left alone in the studio or anywhere else with him for any length of time.  He’d often catch Cenred looking at him when they were working – the man gave him the creeps.  But at least Uther wasn’t going to stand anyone making his son feel uncomfortable.  That was something.

“Merlin, my boy! You’re here!” Gaius breezed into the studio, his far too long white hair tied back for once, although that didn’t necessarily look much better.  George was following behind him, carrying a folder and looking very serious.  But then George usually looked very serious.  It probably came with the territory of working for Uther. 

Merlin accepted the hug from Gaius and tried to ignore the pointed look Arthur was giving him.  No hugs, this was business, that was what Arthur was trying to convey, Merlin was sure of it.  But Merlin liked Gaius and had no intentions of offending him.  Arthur could do that instead once they got their hands on the contract.

“All ready to sign up with us?” Gaius asked, taking the folder from George. 

“Can I see the contract first?” Merlin asked. 

“If you like, but there’s really no need,” Uther told him.  “George has been drawing these up for years, he’s really very good.”

George actually seemed to glow a little and stand even straighter with the praise.  “I checked it all most carefully,” he assured them. 

Merlin looked to Arthur, who raised an eyebrow in a fine impression of Gaius. 

“Um… I’d like to read it anyway,” Merlin told Uther.  He held out his hand to Gaius, who shrugged and just handed it over.

“Thank you. I’ll just have my manager check it,” Merlin told them. 

Uther looked slightly taken aback, then positively stunned when Merlin handed the contract to Arthur.

“I’m his manager,” Arthur added, just in case anyone hadn’t picked that up.  “That dinner last night was most useful, thank you Father.  We did explain to that reporter that I’m Merlin’s manager but she didn’t seem to be listening.  Not a good trait when your profession is supposed to involve fact-seeking.”

“I paid for that dinner!” Uther spluttered.  “You two were supposed to be on a fake date to publicise the single!”

“I would use a different restaurant next time,” Arthur continued happily, winking at Merlin.  “We had to go to a chip shop afterwards because we were still so hungry.”

“Arthur paid for that,” Merlin added, then cringed a little at the furious look Uther gave him.  But Arthur was right there to protect him.

“No glaring at my client,” Arthur told his father.  There was a twinkle of amusement in Arthur’s blue eyes, and Merlin heard Gaius give a snort of laughter.

“I would have thought you would have been pleased,” Gaius put in.  “After all, you’ve been bending my ear for the last two decades about Arthur going into what you call the family business!  Arthur’s not a showman, so this is perfect for him.  Well done, Arthur.  And you, Merlin.  Good choice, both of you.  We’ll sit down later in the week over a beer and I’ll give you some tips and pointers.  Who knows, Arthur, perhaps one day you can manage your father as well?  Lord knows George and I have suffered him long enough!”

“I haven’t!” George protested.  “And Cat can’t manage Merlin and his father.  Uther is a massive star, he needs people with experience. I have years of experience!  I know exactly how Uther likes _everything_!” He gazed at Uther imploringly.  “Please don’t sack me, Sir.”

“Nobody is getting sacked,” Uther assured him.  “God knows Cat will probably get fed up in a week and go off on some other hare-brained scheme.”

“Keep thinking that,” Arthur told Uther happily.  “Now, I’ll need to read this through properly… hang on, what’s this ‘Discovery payment’?” Arthur asked.  “It seems to be a hefty fee.”

“Ah, that’s just something we put on all our new signings,” Uther waved his hand as if it was nothing.  Merlin looked over Arthur’s shoulder at the offending part of the contract.  It was twenty per cent of Merlin’s earnings for the next decade – more than Arthur was getting for actually _working_ for Merlin.  “It’s to cover the talent spotting, and the risk element.”

“It’s a rip-off!” Arthur exclaimed.  “What are you doing for that money?”

“We spotted him,” Uther protested.  “He’s unknown.  It’s a risk!”

“Hmm…” Arthur carried on reading.  “I’m going to have to go through this very carefully before we sign anything.  Merlin, I’ll need details of exactly what you’re getting paid for all the work you’re putting in on _Father and Son_.  I do hope it’s not just a standard session singer contract as you’ve done a lot more than just a bit of background singing.  If it is, we’re going to have to renegotiate before you do any more appearances as you probably won’t be obliged to do them.”

“Oh, he is,” George put in before Uther could stop him.  “That’s all in his contract.  Interviews, videos, joining Uther on the next tour if needed.  It’s all included in the fee Merlin was paid.  And it’s watertight,” he added firmly.

Fee.  Singular.  Merlin could see that Arthur was considering this.

“We’re renegotiating this one then,” Arthur said firmly.  “Merlin’s proving very popular even on just one appearance.  There will be no ‘discovery fee’ as we’ll be bringing money into the company on sales alone.  It sounds as if you’ve already ripped him off pretty well but I suppose as it’s given him a good step up on the ladder we’ll overlook it.  Merlin, come with me back to the office, we’ll work through this and reconvene this afternoon.  Father, Gaius, George.” Arthur nodded to each of them and walked out, Merlin trotting at his heels.

“You enjoyed that!” Merlin accused as soon as they were out of earshot.

Arthur smiled, which was answer enough in itself.

“You’re my _George,_ though.  I want all sorts of treats and you have to bow to all my whims.  Actually bow – ow!”

Arthur had poked him sharply in the ribs. “Shut up, Merlin.”

“That’s not in our contract!”

“What, the shutting up or the poking?” Arthur smirked.

“Neither!"

"Nor are the treats and whims.  You’ll have to earn those!”

Merlin wasn’t entirely sure what Arthur had meant by treats and whims anyway.  It sounded like it might be something Merlin would enjoy too.  He looked at Arthur, who was smiling and was that a faint blush as well?  Merlin wanted to pursue it.  He wanted to pursue it very much indeed.

But that probably wasn’t in their contract either.

Arthur walked into the Albion Bar to meet Leon and Percival, just like he did every Wednesday.

That particular Wednesday though, for the first time all three of them were gainfully employed.  Well, perhaps Arthur’s employment wasn’t gainful yet, but it soon would be.  And it wasn’t as if he was going to starve or anything in the meantime.

Usually Arthur was the first one in there.  He didn’t have anything else to do and in truth drinks with his friends was the highlight of his week.  Percival was always last because his job kept him so busy.  Sometimes he didn’t turn up at all.  Leon was usually there on time, and that rarely changed.

That week, Arthur was last. 

He’d texted Leon to warn him, as otherwise there would have been a good chance that Leon would have had a very long and solitary wait.  That might still have happened as there was a well-thumbed novel on the table and Percival was at the bar buying what were probably guilt-drinks.  But at least Leon came prepared.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur sighed as he slid into their booth.  It was always the same one, in the corner and private enough that they probably wouldn’t get too many Uther fans bothering them.  The bothering hadn’t been a problem until Cedric’s pictures had come out, but with the Rear of the Year thing on top it had sometimes caused difficulties recently. 

“This is my life now,” Leon grumbled good-naturedly.  “You two finding a never-ending list of excuses for being late, and me sitting here looking like some sadster with no mates.”

“Leon no-mates,” Percival put in helpfully as he came back from the bar with their beers.  “Hi Arthur.”

“Thank you.  At least up until now Arthur’s come in here on time and more fed up than anyone else I know.  Now look at him!”

Percival grinned at Arthur.  “Looking good, mate!  New bloke?”

“No!” Arthur realised that was far too quick and indignant even as he said it.  Why would Percival even think that?  Merlin was his client and his… well, friend, sort-of.  They’d spent a lot of time together in the past few days.  Merlin was good company.  “I’ve taken on the management of one of my father’s protégés.”

“Yeah, that Merlin guy, we saw you in the paper,” Leon told him.  “It didn’t say anything about you managing him though.  More about you two being a couple.”

“Yeah, that’s what I read too,” Percival agreed.  “So, spill!”

God, sometimes Arthur hated his friends, he really did.  “There is nothing going on between me and Merlin.  It’s a business arrangement that’s all!”

“A business arrangement!” Leon grinned at Percival.  “Oh look, Arthur’s _business arrangement_ just texted him!”

Arthur’s phone vibrated with an incoming message.  Unfortunately he’d put it on the table when he’d sat down and now Merlin’s name could be seen at the top of the message.

“Is it texting or sexting though?” Percival wanted to know.  “I mean, I’ve seen this… what is it?”

“Business arrangement!” Leon supplied delightedly.

“Yes!  I’ve seen your business arrangement on the telly with your dad!  He’s very… um…”

“Businesslike?” Leon put in.

“He’s the business, yeah!” Percival said.  They were both laughing. 

“Very funny, guys,” Arthur sighed.  “Grow up.”

“Aren’t you going to reply to your business arrangement?” Leon asked.  “Oh look, he’s calling now!”

“That’s so romantic!” Percival feigned a swoon.

“I hate both of you, just so you know,” Arthur growled, picking up his phone and answering.  “Hi Merlin.”

Percival was making kissy faces at him, so Arthur turned away as best he could in the narrow booth. 

“Sorry, what was that?”

 _“Are you at home?”_ Merlin’s eager voice came down the line.

“No, I’m in the pub with some people I used to be friends with.”

_“Which pub?”_

“The Dragon’s Head.”

“Hi Merlin!” Leon called.  “Do join us!”

_“You want me to join you?”_

“What?  No, that’s Leon, he thinks he’s funny.” Arthur favoured his friend with a glare.  It didn’t stop Leon or Percival laughing.

_“I’ll come down.  Elyan’s come back with the photos from this morning’s shoot.  He’s really good.”_

“We can look at those in the morning.  Or scan a few in and email them to me.”

_“It’s no problem to come over, I know that pub, it’s the one on King’s Street, right?”_

“Yes… No! No, you can’t…”

 _“We’ll be there in about ten minutes!”_ Merlin hung up.

“No!  Merlin!  Damn!” Arthur slammed the phone down on the table. 

“Problems with the business arrangement?” Leon asked innocently.

“Merlin’s coming down, he’s got some shots from a photoshoot this morning that he wants me to look at.  So get all the jokes out of the way now, because I don’t want any awkwardness when he gets here.”

“Is he going to wear those tight black jeans he was wearing on _Mara_?” Percival wanted to know.

Merlin always wore tight jeans as far as Arthur could see.  And Arthur had looked quite often.

“How would I know?  Enough about me, let’s hear about your week.”

As usual Percival’s week had been amazing and Leon’s week had been awful.  Poor Leon really hated his job and things just seemed to be getting worse.  They were all just trying to revise his cv and help him find something else when Merlin arrived.

It wasn’t just Merlin, he seemed to have brought an entourage.  Elyan, Morgana, Gwen, Lance and Gwaine were all in tow.  Arthur knew without looking that one of his father’s huge black cars would be outside with a chauffeur sitting in it and attracting a lot of attention.  That would be Morgana’s doing. 

“Gwaine heard the word pub,” Merlin apologised as Gwaine squeezed into the booth next to Leon.

“Never miss a free drink!” Gwaine confirmed. 

“What about the rest of them?” Arthur growled when Merlin slid into the booth beside him.  “I’m having a quiet drink with my friends.”

“And now you have more of us!” Gwaine grinned.  “Ah, you look just like your dad when you get that grumpy look on your face!”

That comment really didn’t help change Arthur’s expression.

Gwaine, of course, was recognised.  He was loud and outgoing and immediately demanded attention.  There were three requests for autographs within the first few minutes of them being there.  One of the autograph hunters went for Lance and Merlin as well, then looked hopefully at Arthur.  Arthur ducked his head.  That didn’t stop them shoving a notepad under his nose.

“Can you sign it?”

Arthur sighed, took the pad, wrote ‘Arthur Pendragon’ very neatly, and handed it back.  The Uther fan looked at it, then frowned at Arthur. 

“But you’re Catweazle.”

“No,” Arthur explained as gently as he could while wanting very much to throttle the guy.  “Catweazle was a strange old wizard in some ancient TV series my father liked to watch as a child.  My name is Arthur.  I’ve changed it by deed poll.”  He hadn’t, yet, but he was going to as soon as he got a spare moment. 

“But Uther’s new album is going to be called Cat!  He said in interviews!  It’s a tribute!”

“He’s calling it Arthur instead,” Arthur lied.  “You heard it here first.”  With a bit of luck the fan would put the rumour on social media and it would get enough coverage that perhaps the album really _would_ end up being called Arthur.  Arthur could see the man texting as he walked away.

“Uther’s going to go spare!” Morgana smiled smugly.  “Make sure I’m around when you tell him.  I don’t want to miss it!”

“Haven’t done it yet,” Arthur admitted. “But I’ll let you know.”

“You two are horrible,” Gwen told them.  “Your poor father.”

“You’ve met him, right?” Gwaine checked.  “Nothing poor about that one.  He sent poor George off to get him a drink during recording last week.  It was too warm, so George put ice in.  That was watering down the whisky, so George had to get a fresh one, and by then Uther had taken a swig from his hip flask which he could have done in the first place!”

“George is a saint,” Lance acknowledged.

“George is a doormat,” Gwaine corrected. “Him behaving like that makes Uther expect the same deference from the rest of us!”

“Well that’s never going to happen with you,” Leon grumbled.  Gwaine had squeezed in very close to him.  Leon had shifted along, so Gwaine had followed suit.  Leon was now squashed up against the wall and looked very uncomfortable. 

“True!  Though you know, I’d be your doormat any day of the week… maybe more bedspread than doormat.  Whaddaya say, Leon, you gonna stop playing so hard to get?”

“Why do you always have this idiot hanging around you?” Leon growled at Arthur. 

“It’s not Arthur I’m hanging around,” Gwaine told him, leaning even closer.  Leon rolled his eyes and tried to press himself even further into the wall.  Of course, that just made Gwaine even worse.

Once that would have cut Arthur like a knife, but those days were gone.  His interest in Gwaine had evaporated, which was just as well given that there was no chance of anything ever happening between them.  He noticed Merlin was looking at him worriedly for some reason.  Perhaps he was thinking that he shouldn’t have gatecrashed Arthur’s private drinks with his friends. 

“You okay?” Merlin whispered, which was quite an odd thing to say given that it was Leon who was suffering.  (Though Arthur wasn’t entirely sure Leon really was suffering all that much given that he knew Leon would have punched Gwaine a long time ago if he actually minded the drummer’s behaviour that much.)

“I’m fine,” Arthur assured Merlin.  “Maybe don’t bring your entire fan club with you next time?”

“Your sister insisted…”

“I did!” Morgana butted in.  “Arthur, I need your help, maybe your two clever friends as well,” she looked hopefully at Leon and Percival.  Percival was immediately alert, Leon gave Gwaine a gentle shove and indicated that they should pay attention to Morgana.  “I can’t get hold of Agravaine, and my solicitor still hasn’t received the monies for the boutique.  I’ve not been able to exchange, and the seller’s threatening to go with another buyer.  I’ve tried everything, I’ve even been round to his house but he’s not there.  My bank say the money’s gone out but the solicitors say it hasn’t arrived.  I did the transfer myself, and I was very careful that I put in the right codes.  They’re checking it through with my solicitor to see what’s happened.”

“Was it definitely to your solicitor’s account?” Leon asked.

“Yes!”

“No,” Gwen put in.  “It might not have been your solicitor’s.  Agravaine had all the papers, he was the one who provided you with the details.  It could have been anyone’s account.  It could have been his.”

“And if you did an internet transfer the chances are that you can’t get the money back,” Percival sighed. 

“No!” Morgana gasped.  “But that was everything I have!  No, no he couldn’t have done!  He wouldn’t!  The sort and account codes were in a letter on the solicitor’s headed paper, it was all official.  No, there’s been a mistake, and the bank will sort it out.  They said they’d call me back as soon as they’d investigated.”

Arthur suddenly had a very bad feeling about the whole thing.  He’d never liked Agravaine, but he’d also never imagined that the man would do anything like this to Morgana. 

“Let me try,” he offered.  “I think I still have his number from when you were trying to get me to work with him.” 

“Went to work with Merlin quickly enough, didn’t you?” Morgana snarled.  “Not your own sister though.  What’s the difference, Arthur?  Oh don’t tell me, I think I get it!  Or should I say _you_ will?”

Merlin’s pale skin flushed almost to the very tips of his ears at that implication.  It wasn’t fair of Morgana, as Merlin had done nothing.  But Arthur didn’t call her on it, he got how angry she was with him and could completely understand why.  He’d let her down with his insistence that he went his own way and not go into business with her. 

“Just let me try,” was all Arthur said.  He searched through his contacts and called Agravaine, aware that everyone was watching him worriedly as he did so. 

There was a bleep, and then a robotic voice informed him: “That number is unobtainable.  Please try again.”

It was definitely the right number.  Arthur had spoken to Agravaine on it a couple of months earlier. 

“Number unobtainable,” Arthur sighed. 

“Oh my god!” Morgana snapped.  “The little shit’s done a runner with my money, hasn’t he?”

“We don’t know that yet,” Gwen attempted gently, stroking Morgana’s arm and trying to calm her down. “Wait and see what the bank says.  Perhaps they can get it back.”

There was no way that they would be able to get it back and Arthur knew it.  He exchanged a worried glance with Leon.  They both knew the score. 

And then Arthur’s phone rang with an unfamiliar number.  Hoping against all hope that it was somehow Agravaine getting in touch after all, he answered it.

“Arthur Pendragon speaking.”

“Hi Arthur!” It was a female voice with a slight Welsh accent.  Definitely not Agravaine calling back.  “This is Allie from _Good Morning Albion_.  We were hoping to arrange an interview with Merlin and Uther this week and I understand you’re representing Merlin?”

Arthur shook his head sadly at Morgana, then took down all the details Allie was giving him, feeling horribly guilty as he did so.  His career and Merlin’s were taking off, while Morgana’s dreams were crumbling to dust.

“6.30 tomorrow morning!” Merlin gasped, getting the gist of the telephone conversation and reading Arthur’s notes over his shoulder.  “Arthur, no!”

“We’ll be there,” Arthur assured Allie.  “See you tomorrow.”

“6.30!”

“You’re a new act, you can’t be picky.  Besides, my father’s going and it would look really bad if you couldn’t make it because you’d overslept!”

“But…”

Any further protests on Merlin’s part were drowned out by the urgent bleeping of Morgana’s phone from an incoming call. 

“It’s the bank, shush,” she ordered them all.  “Hello… yes, I’m Morgana Pendragon.  Yes…”

Arthur couldn’t believe it when Morgana then proceeded to go through all her security questions with the entire group sitting there listening.  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust any of them, but it did highlight the reason she’d been able to be duped if indeed that was what had happened.  They were in a reasonably secluded booth, but there still could be other people listening.

“You really shouldn’t be doing that,” Leon told her, but she just waved him quiet and carried on.

Arthur’s phone vibrated with an incoming request.  An interview with a music magazine by the looks of the little preview that appeared on his screen.  His fingers itched to look at the full email, but he couldn’t while Morgana was obviously having a pretty upsetting call.

“But that was all my money!” Morgana was saying.  “There _must_ be a way to get it back!”

There wouldn’t be.  Morgana would have been asked by the bank to verify the transfer at the time.  It was standard practice to avoid fraud.  Arthur sat there listening to Morgana’s side of the conversation.  He could easily imagine what the other side were saying.  Sure enough, when Morgana came off the phone in tears of frustration she confirmed what he expected.

“They say that they’ve contacted the other bank, but the account’s already been emptied and closed.  I should have contacted them a week ago when I made the transfer.  They’re alerting the police, but it was transferred to a foreign account and realistically there’s little to no chance of ever getting it back. Damn it!  That thieving bastard!”

That had been a lot of money.  Arthur’s mother had always treated Morgana like a daughter and left her a trust fund just the same as she’d left Arthur.  It was the maturity from that which Morgana had been going to use to buy her boutique and set herself up in business. 

“I’m so sorry,” Arthur told her.

“Yes, and so you should be!” Morgana snapped.  “Why wouldn’t you come into business with me, Arthur?  It didn’t have to be forever, just to help me set up!  This would never have happened with you there!  Never!”

“It’s not Arthur’s fault,” Merlin began, but Arthur kicked him under the table to make him shut up.  Morgana wasn’t in a mood to see reason. 

“Isn’t it?  I _begged_ him to come in with me!  He was just sitting in his room doing nothing, and he’d got all that business management training going to waste.  But no, he wanted to wait for some pretty little thing to come along instead.” Morgana got out of the booth and stood up at the end of the table.  “Well good luck with that, little brother.  I’m off to salvage what I can of my career.  Thanks for _nothing!_ ”

She stalked out, Gwen and Lance hurrying after her.  To be fair, Lance was mostly hurrying after Gwen.

“I could try to help?” Leon offered.  “She’ll just kill you while she’s in this mood, Arthur.”  He glared at Gwaine.  “Come on, let me out.”

Gwaine not only let him out but went with him.  “Moral support,” he insisted when Leon looked as if he might protest.  “She’s scary when she’s angry.”

That left Arthur, Merlin, Elyan and Percival all sitting looking at one another.

“Well that wasn’t the best thing that could have happened,” Percival commented.  “Hope Leon can sort her out. Just the four of us then.”  He leaned across the table to Elyan.  “Don’t think we’ve been introduced.  I’m Percival.”

Elyan shook the proffered hand.  “Elyan.  Gwen’s brother.  Photographer.  I’ve been shooting Merlin’s publicity pictures!” 

“Nice,” Percival told him, not even glancing at Merlin. 

“You work out, right?” Elyan asked, bringing out his tablet.

It wasn’t exactly an earth-shattering deduction from Elyan given the size of Percival’s biceps.  Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Daily.”

“We should do some body-building shoots.  You’d be a brilliant model.  Oh, that reminds me Arthur, here’s the shoot I’ve done of Merlin for you.”

He unlocked his tablet and brought up the photoshoot, then handed it over to Arthur.  “They’ve come out really well, I think you’ll be pleased with them.”

Arthur swiped through the pictures, with Merlin looking over his shoulder.

“Oh no, that one’s horrible, look at my goofy grin!” Merlin exclaimed.  “And that one!”

The pictures looked very good to Arthur.  He could see several that would be perfect for the press release, or perhaps a website.  That was something that needed doing as well.  An official website, and a social media presence. 

“These are really good,” he told Elyan.  “Ignore Merlin.”

Merlin gave an indignant squawk, just as Arthur expected.  “Ignore Merlin?  It’s me in the picture!”

“I know, and they’re good pictures.  Elyan, send the invoice through and I’ll sort it out.  We’re going to use quite a lot of them on social media so send me all the links and credits that you want added.”

“Oh, I don’t like social media,” Merlin protested. 

“Tell me you at least have a Twitter account?”

Merlin shook his head.

“Instagram?  YouTube? Periscope? Facebook?”

“I’ve got Facebook.”

Arthur sighed.  “You’re hopeless.  But at least there won’t be any ill-advised tweets from your past coming out of the woodwork once you’re famous.  Okay, we need to set all this up.  Especially the YouTube, you’ll need your own channel and we need to get some footage of you on there.  And Twitter… you can start off by advertising your interview with Uther tomorrow morning.”

Merlin groaned at the reminder, but nodded miserably.

“We need to get started on this,” Arthur realised.  He gave Percival an apologetic look, but Percival really didn’t seem to mind.

“You go, Arthur.  I’m fine here with Elyan talking bodybuilding shoots,” Percival insisted.

Elyan nodded. “We’re good, you go if you need to.”

Arthur got the distinct impression that both men would actually prefer it if he and Merlin left.  Merlin apparently felt the same because he was already getting up.

“I don’t think they want us there,” Merlin commented as they headed out. 

“No kidding,” Arthur replied drily.  He started walking towards the nearest taxi rank because Morgana and her car were long gone.  “Just as well because we really need to get started on this.  I can’t believe I didn’t think of it days ago.  I just assumed you’d already got something out there.  Did you take any pictures in the studio with my father?  We can tag him and that’ll immediately get you a following.”

“A few.  And there’s some from the video.  And at the _Mara_ interview.”

“Perfect.  Now, tomorrow…”

Merlin grimaced.  “6.30 am Arthur!  I bet they don’t make your dad get there for that time!”

“No, George will make sure it’ll be more like 7.30 for him because the interview won’t be until after 8.  And they’ll go by helicopter anyway as that’ll avoid the traffic.  So, you’ll stay in one of the guest rooms tonight and travel in with him.  I’m making sure you’re there on time,” Arthur added when Merlin looked a little dubious.  “As per our contract.  Plus that gives us time to set you up with a few official social media sites.  Keep your personal one locked, and change the name on it.  Explain to your friends why.”

“I don’t have a change of clothes,” Merlin pointed out.

“We’ll stop at yours on the way, you can run in and grab what you need.”

“With the taxi meter running?”

“Yes. I’m assuming your car’s still on our driveway if you came over here with Morgana? And anyway you’ve had a drink.  Safety, Merlin!”

Merlin muttered something about rich people and wasting money. It didn’t stop him doing exactly what Arthur asked though.

Merlin secretly loved Pendragon Manor.

It was fast becoming like a second home to him, and having Arthur invite him to stay felt perfectly natural.  It probably shouldn’t, given that Merlin didn’t live there and his own father was so very much against Merlin having so much to do with the Pendragons. 

His father, luckily, hadn’t been home when Merlin and Arthur stopped by the Emrys abode to pick up some spare clothes.  Merlin could imagine what he’d have to say about the extravagance of allowing a taxi driver to run the meter while Merlin and Arthur gathered together a small suitcase full of clothes and other necessities.  Hunith had tutted disapprovingly but that hadn’t stopped her sending them off with a Tupperware box full of freshly-baked brownies, half of which they’d eaten before the taxi reached Pendragon Manor. Merlin suspected this was mostly because Arthur had stood in the kitchen telling her how wonderful her baking smelled and how lucky Merlin was to have a mother to bake for him.  He also suspected that there would be regular boxes of bakes for Arthur from that point forward.  Merlin’s mother was the most kind-hearted of individuals and was never going to be able to resist having her heart-strings tugged like that. 

Morgana hadn’t come home.  

It wasn’t unusual, apparently she often stayed over at Lance and Gwen’s place but Merlin could tell that it was worrying Arthur on this occasion.  He seemed distracted while they were sorting out Merlin’s new Instagram and Twitter, and he actually gave up on the website, arranging to meet a designer the next day and leaving it at that. 

“Why don’t you call Leon and see how things are going?” Merlin suggested after Arthur had been staring at the screen blankly for a good two minutes. 

Arthur shook his head.  “I don’t think I want to know.  There’s no way they could have sorted it out, Merlin.  Morgana’s lost that money and she’s right – if I’d supported her when she asked me to this would never have happened.  She’s put so much work into this and it’ll take ages for her to raise that kind of money again.  My mother left her that money so that Morgana would have a future.”

“You feel like you’ve let your mother down,” Merlin guessed.

Arthur just nodded sadly.  “And my sister too.  The two most important women in my life.  And I don’t know what to do to make it right.  Even if I offer to help now it’s too late.  And I’m managing you now as well anyway – that’s taking all my time.”

Merlin’s heart sank.  He could see where this was going.  Arthur would want to dissolve their contract and help Morgana instead.  Of course he would.  Morgana was family, while Merlin was just someone who had come along at the wrong time.  But he could understand Arthur’s point of view.  If it was Freya he’d want to do the same thing.

“She’s your sister.  If you want to work with her instead, I’ll understand,” Merlin told Arthur sadly. 

“What?  No!” Arthur exclaimed.  “No, Leon _hates_ his current job, and he’s a brilliant manager, really sensible and organised.  If there’s any way she can make this work she should take him on, not me.  We should have thought of that at the start, but I didn’t realise back then how miserable he was.  He’d be perfect, he was one of the best students in our year.  I was always competing with him.  And she’s known him since my first year at uni, she knows he’s completely trustworthy.  No, she definitely should go with him.  And I’m not giving _you_ up!” Arthur added fiercely.  “This last week has been great, we work really well together.”

Merlin couldn’t help feeling a little warm glow of pride at that.  “Thank you, I like working with you too.”

They were so far past their initial bad start now.  Arthur was becoming a good friend, and the future was looking very rosy.  Still, Merlin liked Morgana too.  She had been the first of the Pendragons to befriend him and she had been hugely kind to Freya as well.  Merlin absolutely hated to see her getting scammed by some dirtbag. 

“I’ve got an idea though,” Merlin continued.  “I know we can’t help her now, but if we made a success of this and get filthy rich like your father then maybe we could buy her the boutique?  I mean, it’ll probably take years but maybe one day?”

Arthur stared at him for a moment and then threw back his head and laughed. 

“It was just an idea…” Merlin began nervously, not thinking it was such a terrible one that it needed to be laughed at.

“It’s genius!” Arthur told him, then leaned forward and planted a kiss on Merlin’s forehead.  “ _You_ are a genius!”  He got to his feet.  “You stay here and tweet a couple more pictures.  Go down to the kitchen if you want some food. I’ve got things to do… Oh Merlin… _Genius!”_

Merlin wasn’t quite sure what had just happened.  Arthur had dashed out of the room and a few minutes later Merlin heard one of Uther’s fleet of cars leaving, presumably with Arthur in it.

His phone vibrated a moment later with an incoming text from Arthur.

“Go to bed early, make sure you are up and ready to leave by 7am at the latest.  My father won’t wait.  Set your alarm.  I expect you to be asleep by the time I get home! A x”

There was that little x at the end.  Merlin touched his forehead, remembering the chaste kiss.  He wished it was more.  He really, _really_ wished it was more.

“Goooooooooooooooood Morning Albion!”

Tristan and Isolde were the leading breakfast TV presenters in all Albion, and had been for nearly five years.  They were a married couple, loved up enough that even the scummiest of papers hadn’t been able to find any dirt on them.  They were also very kind and welcoming and did everything to make Merlin feel at ease.  Apparently they’d seen _Mara_ and hadn’t been impressed with the way he’d been treated. 

Arthur was quite proud of Merlin that morning.  Merlin had needed waking up, but that was no surprise.  Arthur had enjoyed going into the guest room where Merlin was sleeping and flinging open the curtains. Admittedly the sun had only just been rising so it wasn’t all that bright, but it had the desired effect.  Merlin had flung the duvet over his head and burrowed down into the bedding, only his feet sticking out at the bottom.

“Wake up, Merlin!” Arthur had yelled as close to where he thought Merlin’s head would be as possible.  “Shower, dress and out.  You have one hour!”

“I only need ten minutes,” Merlin protested.  “Let me sleep!”

So it had been totally necessary to take hold of the duvet and whip it off to reveal Merlin lying there in shorts and t-shirt.  And the bed-head wasn’t adorable either. 

“Shower.  Now.”

Merlin was not a morning person.  Arthur knew he was going to have his work cut out in the future.  He was also going to have to drag Merlin out of bed on a regular basis.  Really, his was a great job!

But they’d managed it, and Merlin had actually beaten Uther to the waiting helicopter.  Uther had been in an amazingly good mood considering the early hour, but then he was used to it.

Tristan and Isolde, though, had been up since 4am preparing their show, just as they did every day.  Arthur didn’t know how they did it.  He was contemplating having a snooze in the green room while Merlin was on.  But there were things to sort out for Morgana, so he couldn’t afford that luxury. Also he needed to watch the interview and coach Merlin from the sidelines if necessary.

The interview went very well.  They’d gone through what to say and what not to say on the journey to the studio, and miraculously Merlin appeared to remember it all.  This despite being slightly overawed by the helicopter ride in.  It helped that Isolde in particular was being very kind to him with her questions and guiding him when it looked as if he might put his foot in it.  Arthur made a mental note to ensure they gave priority interviews to _Good Morning Albion_ in future. 

There was an advert break after the first few minutes of the interview and Arthur hurried over to Merlin’s side, trying not to get in the way of the make-up artists who had rushed in to touch up their work.

“Was that okay?” Merlin asked worriedly. 

“You’re doing fine,” Arthur assured him.  “You haven’t insulted anybody yet!”

“The camera loves you,” Isolde assured him.  “It’s those cheekbones.  Also try to smile more, we’re not Helen Mara, we’re not trying to catch you out and you have a very cute smile.  And I adore your version of this song.”  She looked up at Arthur.  “Your father’s recorded this whole album for you, hasn’t he?  Did you want to join in with the interview and tell everyone what you think of that?”

Arthur supposed that most people would not want to know what he thought of it.  Uther was looking at him hopefully, and Arthur supposed that at any moment he’d be ordered to sit down and take part.  Quickly he put paid to that.

“I’m not really one for the spotlight, thank you.  I’ll leave that to Merlin and my father.”

“Back on in one minute!” someone called, and Arthur made a sharp exit before Uther could stop him.

“Cat’s very shy,” he heard Uther say to Isolde. 

It wasn’t true.  Arthur wasn’t at all shy, he just saw absolutely no point in exposing any part of his life to people that he didn’t know.  He was perfectly happy out of the spotlight, especially now he had a full-time job to keep him occupied. 

“Really?  This Rear of the year thing must be awful for him!” Isolde gasped.  She really was very sweet.

“It’s on the _don’t mention_ list,” Merlin told her very seriously.  Arthur could have hugged him, but…

“Twenty seconds!”

“Don’t worry,” Isolde smiled.  “Won’t say a word!”

The make-up artists scattered and the woman who had been doing the time warnings moved forwards.

“And five… four… three… two… one…”

Isolde turned a dazzling smile to the camera.  “Welcome back to…”

“Good morrrrning Albion!” Tristan filled in.  Honestly, they were really cheesy, Arthur thought.  But it really didn’t matter.  Merlin was looking far more comfortable than he had earlier.

“We’re talking to a living legend in the studio this morning – Uther Pendragon who is all set for yet another hit with his new single ‘Father and Son’ which will be entering the charts tomorrow!  He’s duetting on this one with newcomer Merlin Emrys, who we’ll be talking to in a moment.  But first Uther, word is that this one’s likely to go straight into the top two!  You’ve had a lot of hits over the years, how does this one compare?”

“Well we’re not there yet,” Uther told her, aiming a practiced smile at the camera.  “But this one’s special because it’s dedicated to my boy, Cat.  I was furious at the way he was forced out in public, and the manner of it was dreadful.”

Isolde looked quite genuinely horrified.  Arthur was glad to see that there was only a quite innocent picture of himself with Uther briefly filling the screen. 

“We were appalled when we saw that too, Uther,” Isolde assured him.  “Your son’s a very private man so we won’t discuss it further but it must have been awful for him to have his sexuality exposed in such a heartless manner.  He has all our sympathies at Good Morning Albion.  Dreadful reporting.”

“Quite,” Uther agreed.  “The entire album is dedicated to my boy, all the rest are original works but this one is a cover.”

“Ah yes, Cat Stevens did the original,” Tristan put in.

Arthur narrowed his eyes.  He hadn’t realised that particular little nugget.  He was sure the songwriter’s name had been something like Yusuf Islam.

“Yes, I thought that was very fitting,” Uther agreed enthusiastically.

Arthur was going to kill him.

“Uther’s son’s my manager,” Merlin piped up.  He looked nervous again.  “But he doesn’t like to be called Cat, he goes by the name of Arthur.”

Uther glared at him, and Merlin cringed slightly but still carried on bravely.  Arthur made a mental note that he definitely owed Merlin a drink for that one.

“Yes, we’re Arthur and Merlin!”

Isolde clapped her hands together delightedly.  “So wonderful! Just like the legends! Now Merlin, talking of legends, how does it feel to be working with someone of Uther’s calibre?”

Oh, she was smooth.  She’d stopped Merlin going any further and managed to soothe Uther’s feelings at the same time.  Arthur smiled to himself as Merlin then sat there praising Uther and Gaius and talking a little about making the video, which was then played.  By the end of the interview they were all chatting about the single again, and how everyone hoped it would enter the charts in pole position the next day.

As the programme moved over to the 8.30 news, there were congratulations all round.  Arthur breathed a sigh of relief at how smoothly it had all gone and strode over to Merlin’s side.

“Was that okay?” Merlin asked again, his expression adorably hopeful as he looked up at his manager.  Arthur just smiled.

He was still going to strangle his father though.  Cat Stevens indeed!

Merlin was having a pretty great week.

He was tired from all the interviews and photo shoots and who knew that thinking up clever things to say on social media was _so hard_?  But the _Good Morning Albion_ interview had gone really well, and his Twitter and Instagram accounts were gathering frighteningly large numbers of followers already after he posted a couple of behind the scenes shots from the video.  Arthur had been pleased with the reaction, and seemed to think everything was going smoothly.

Which was surprising given that Arthur had spent much of Thursday on whatever it was that he was trying to sort out for his sister.  Merlin supposed that if it wasn’t such a crucial day for the single that he probably wouldn’t have seen Arthur at all.  But Arthur was nothing if not professional.

Still, Merlin had spent another night in one of the guest bedrooms at Pendragon Manor.  He’d been woken not by Arthur this time but by the sound of loud celebrations downstairs.  Emerging onto the landing at the same time as Arthur, he’d looked over the balustrade to observe George hurrying across the hallway with an armful of champagne bottles.

“What’s happened?” Merlin called.

“You’re number one!” George yelled back.

That was a great feeling, and just a perfect finish to the week.

“Get down here, Merlin!  And you Cat!” Uther called. 

Arthur slept shirtless.  Merlin hadn’t needed to know or see that, because now the vision of bare-chested Arthur standing in the doorway of his room was going to haunt Merlin’s fantasies. 

“I’m not dressed,” Merlin protested, but apparently that didn’t matter.  Arthur (thankfully) pulled on a t-shirt and herded him downstairs.

George was smartly dressed of course, but it did look as if everyone else had been dragged down in their nightwear.  There was still no sign of Morgana.

Uther toasted everyone.  Including himself.  Several times.  It was 8.30 in the morning.  Merlin intended driving home later and only had a few sips, which immediately met with Uther’s disapproval.

“George can sort you out with a car.  Have a proper drink!”

Arthur took the glass away from Merlin and put it down.  “Absolutely not.  We want the headlines about this to be your return to the number one slot, not Merlin’s arrest for drunk driving!”

Uther didn’t look as if he was going to take no for an answer, so Arthur had made sure Merlin left at that point.  But not before Uther had insisted that Merlin return for the celebratory party later.  Merlin could only imagine how much alcohol was going to be flowing at _that._

It was quiet at home when Merlin got in.  His mother had taken Sabrina out somewhere, the twins were at school, and Balinor was working in his study.  Merlin was careful not to disturb him, creeping up the stairs and into his own room.  Having a little bit of time to himself was more of a relief than he expected, and he ended up falling asleep and missing half the day.

Merlin woke to the sound of his mobile ringtone.  It was Arthur wanting to know when he was coming back because time was getting on and there were things to work on before Uther got Merlin totally bladdered.

So Merlin got up, showered, and changed into a fresh pair of black jeans and t-shirt as per Arthur’s instructions and re-did his eye liner (which had looked quite panda-like when Merlin had woken up).  Apparently he was going to have to post a few celebratory pictures on Insta-twitter-gram or whatever and needed to look the part.  He grabbed some clean clothes on the expectation that he would be staying at Pendragon Manor again that night, and headed downstairs.

Unfortunately, his father was no longer in the study but sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and reading the paper.  When Merlin came down the stairs he was immediately face to face with his father.

“Nice of you to come home for once,” Balinor commented on seeing Merlin.  “We thought you’d forgotten where it is.”  He eyed the bag slung over Merlin’s shoulder.  “Off out _again_?”

“Arthur just called, we need to do some social media posts.”

“Oh, the boyfriend,” Balinor growled.

“Arthur’s not my boyfriend,” Merlin corrected.

“No, he’s your manager!  Your mother told me.”

So much for Merlin’s mother keeping his secrets.  Merlin sighed, and wondered if he could just make a run for it and avoid the argument that was definitely coming.

“Arthur’s pretty well-qualified,” Merlin attempted.  He took a couple of steps towards the door, noted the way that his father was glaring at him, and stayed put.  “He’s been great so far.”

Balinor snorted contemptuously.  “Probably turning all your deals into financial gains for his family.  All the same, those Pendragons.  Just like his father, you mark my words, boy.”

“Arthur got my contract with Uther and Gaius re-written so that they _weren’t_ ripping me off!”  Merlin realised his mistake the moment the words were out of his mouth.

“What?” Balinor got to his feet.  “They were trying to rip you off?  That no-good cheating swine! Messing with my lad! I’ll kill him!”

“No, no Dad!” Merlin protested.  “It’s not like that!  And this is just a party to celebrate the single getting to number one in its first week…”

Another completely wrong thing to say.  But Balinor would have heard about it at some point.

“Number one?  He’s at number one at _his_ age?”

A bit rich considering Uther and Balinor had met at college and were the same age, but Merlin let that pass.

“He’s very popular.”

“He’s got that number one off your back, boy.  Catering to the younger crowd!  Party, you say?  I’m coming with you, I’m giving that charlatan a piece of my mind.  Ripping my boy off!  And I don’t want you seeing this Arthur any more either.  I don’t care if your mother likes him, I’m not having you shagging a Pendragon!”

“We’re not shagging,” Merlin said wearily, but Balinor wasn’t listening.  The man was grabbing his coat and his car keys.

“Please don’t spoil this for me, Dad,” Merlin pleaded.  “The Pendragons are okay, even Uther.  Arthur and Morgana are really great.  You’d like them.”

“Then it’s good that I’m going to meet them then,” Balinor growled.  “Come on, it’s about time I put that old idiot in his place.”

Merlin had a very bad feeling about it all but knew there was no arguing with his father in Balinor’s current mood.  Reluctantly he followed his father to the car.

Merlin was late.

Arthur had checked his mobile several times over for missed calls but there was nothing.  There had just been a brief text saying that Merlin was on his way and bringing his father, then nothing. 

Arthur hadn’t met Merlin’s father yet.  He’d met Hunith several times and really liked her, so supposed that the man she’d married couldn’t be anything but nice too.  So he didn’t really think too much more about that message.  But still, Merlin was late.

Perhaps he was bringing his entire family again, as had happened with the fashion shoot?  Plenty of people had already started showing up for Uther’s celebratory party so a few more wouldn’t hurt.  It would probably be a good idea given that everyone else would be there for Uther.  Arthur was about to text Merlin and suggest this, when Morgana finally came home, Leon and Gwen still in tow.

“Morgana!” Arthur strode over to his sister. 

“Don’t even speak to me!” Morgana snarled at him.  “This is all your fault!”

That wasn’t entirely fair because it _wasn’t_ Arthur’s fault, but he decided not to argue that point just then. 

“Morgana!” Uther called, spotting his daughter.  “Come on in!  We’re celebrating!”

“Excuse me if I don’t feel like celebrating whatever it is,” Morgana snapped.  “I’ve had all my savings stolen with almost no chance of recovering them, and to make it even worse some creep’s gone in and bought what was supposed to be my boutique from right under my nose!  I didn’t know conveyancers knew how to move that fast!  It has to be him!”

“What?” Uther, glass in hand, had come to stand out in the hall.  “What is this?  What’s happened?”

“Agravaine’s taken all Morgana’s savings,” Arthur explained. 

“He’s left the country with that blonde tart Vivien!” Morgana cried.  “They’ve taken everything!”

“You’ve been robbed?” Uther asked. 

“It’s fraud, sir,” Leon explained.  “The police are onto it but in cases like this they rarely recover the money.  We’ve tried to raise the money in other ways but it just wasn’t fast enough.  There were two other offers put in on the boutique and one of them was a cash buyer who didn’t even care about surveys and checks, they just pushed it all through.  They’re at the signing stage so there’s no chance of beating them to it.  We’re fairly certain it must be Agravaine as who else would do that?  Goodness knows why he’d still want it.”

“I’ll have him hunted down and locked up!” Uther roared.  “How dare he!  My daughter!  Morgana, we’ll get you another shop, don’t you worry.”  He put his arm around his daughter.  “I’ll buy it for you. My god, that man will pay for this!”

“Thank you, but I really wanted to do this myself,” Morgana sighed.  “I’ve been planning it for so long!”

“It’s not Agravaine,” Arthur told them calmly.

“How do you know?  You’ve been running around after Merlin all week, you don’t know anything about what’s been happening with me!” Morgana was actually crying as she spoke, and Arthur’s heart bled for her.  But he knew he could put it right.

“I know because I bought it,” Arthur said.

“What?” Uther and Leon exclaimed simultaneously. 

Morgana eyed him suspiciously.  “Why would you do that?”

“Because I wanted you to have it.  It’s going in both our names, you can come with me and sign tomorrow and pay in as much as you can on your side, but effectively it’s yours.  Half ownership each, I’m the silent partner.  You can pay me back for your half when you start making a profit.  And you’d better make a good profit!”

“But… that’s your inheritance!”

“Yes!  And our mother would have wanted us to do this with her money!  She would have loved us to go into business together.  So get yourself a decent business manager this time, one you can rely on!” Arthur looked around for his friend.  “Leon, do you want a job?  Brand new business, going places.  The downside is that it’s fashion, and you’d have to work for my sister.”

“Yes!” Leon looked happier than Arthur had seen him in a long time.  “If that’s okay with Morgana?”

Morgana looked from one to the other, then rushed over and flung her arms around Arthur.  “You’re the best!  The very best!”  She pulled away and beamed at Leon.  “You too!”

Uther snorted at them all.  “I suppose if it makes you all happy. And I’ll still have that scumbag hunted down for what he’s done. But I could have paid for it all.  You didn’t have to give up your mother’s money, Cat.”

“It’s not all of it.  And it won’t be forever.  Just until Morgana’s established and can pay me back.  Plus I get half the profits.  It’s not a bad deal for me either.”

Morgana pressed a finger to his lips.  “Stop talking while you’re still looking like a hero, Arthur,” she instructed, but she was smiling at him.  “If you’re lucky I might tell Merlin what an amazing brother you are and how he’s lucky to have you!”

Ah, she was back on that track again.  “It’s a business relationship,” Arthur reminded her yet again.  “I’m his manager.”

“I didn’t suggest anything else, brother dear,” she smirked.  “But I find it very interesting that your mind immediately went into the gutter.  Sounds to me as if someone is in denial.  And, you know, as you’ve just proved yourself deserving, I think I’m going to get changed and then I’ll be trying to give you a helping hand!”

“No!” Arthur exclaimed.  “No, absolutely not.  Morgana…”

But she was already off, her little entourage of Leon and Gwen at her side, and then Lance and Gwaine following behind them, like a queen and her court.  But then that would have suited Morgana enormously.

Arthur found that he was more amused by Gwaine chasing Leon than anything.  He wasn’t quite sure if Leon was horrified or secretly enjoying it.  Arthur suspected the latter.  And Gwaine was gorgeous and great fun, but Arthur’s interest had moved well and truly onto Merlin.  And if Morgana was going to start interfering then Arthur supposed he had better try to move faster.  It was nerve wracking after what had happened with Cedric.  But Merlin was a completely different sort of person and would never do anything like that to anyone.  Besides, Merlin’s own profile was fast rising high enough that there would probably be more interest in pictures of his butt than Arthur’s!

“Where _is_ Merlin anyway?” Uther asked, looking around at the guests milling past them.  “He’s supposed to be here for this.”

“He got delayed.  He’s bringing his dad along.”

“What?” Uther froze.  “You mean Balinor?  Balinor’s coming here?”

Belatedly Arthur remembered that Uther and Merlin’s father weren’t on the best of terms.  Perhaps Merlin’s text had been intended as a warning.  “Erm… yes.  I think so.  Perhaps he wants to make up?” Arthur suggested hopefully.

Uther’s face was like thunder.  “This is supposed to be a celebration, Cat!  I’m not having that man here!  Call the gates and tell them not to let him in!”

“He’s Merlin’s father!”

“He walked out on The Dragons, nearly ruined us.  Whatever he wants, it can’t be anything good!”  Uther paused to catch his breath.  He was looking quite pale, Arthur noticed.  Perhaps all the work over the past few weeks had been too much.

“Are you okay, father?” Arthur asked.  “You don’t look well.”

“I’m fine!” Uther snapped.  “Dammit, where’s George?  Never here when I need him!”  With that Uther stormed off in the direction of the main function room where most of the guests were gathered. 

Arthur went into one of the side rooms and got his phone out, intending to call Merlin and warn him that Uther wasn’t going to let Balinor into the grounds.  But it was already too late.  He could see Merlin walking down the driveway with a dark-haired man beside him that had to be Merlin’s father.  There was some similarity in their colouring and the way they carried themselves.  Balinor’s hair was still long, though he was barely recognisable from the youth with waist-length hair in the old recording Uther and Gaius had shown him.  Arthur put up a hand in greeting, and saw Merlin start to raise his own in response. 

“Arthur!  Fancy meeting you here.”

Arthur recognised that voice.  Cenred.  And it had suddenly got very dark in the room because Cenred had come in and closed the door behind him, shutting out the light from the hallway.  Arthur quickly moved away from the window and headed for the door, but Cenred blocked his way.

“I think we’re alone now,” Cenred half-sang to him. 

Great, he was being serenaded badly by a crap song from the 80s.  Arthur could barely see in the darkness of the room.  Cenred had the advantage, he knew, because Arthur would be silhouetted against the lights outside the windows. 

“Come on Arthur, you’re up for rear of the year!  Get that arse in gear!  Hey! I’m a poet!  That should be a song… the ballad of Arthur’s Arse!  You know, you missed out last time, running off when we were in the pool together.”

Cenred smelled quite strongly of alcohol.  He’d probably been drinking for some time.  Arthur made a lunge for what he hoped would be the light switch, but instead found himself caught and shoved up against the wall, Cenred’s body pressed hard against him.

“Get off me, Cenred!” Arthur pushed back but Cenred had the advantage of being able to lean his entire weight on Arthur.

“Come on, we’ve all seen the pictures.  Time to show me the reality.”

Arthur managed to free his right arm and fumbled desperately for the light switch.  It had to be there. 

“I’ll smash your face in if you don’t get off me!”

Cenred just smirked at that and leaned in to try to kiss him.

“Get the hell off me!” Arthur yelled, and tried again to push him away, this time with a little more success although Cenred was straight back on him and clouted him round the head, trying to turn him round to face the wall. 

“Shut up you spoiled little shit!  Always sloping around the place looking so neat and tidy… Cedric saw what you really were.  Even when he was with me he was looking at you.  Now it’s my turn.”

Arthur fought back desperately.  He was no lightweight and wasn’t going to let himself be an easy target.

“Arthur?”

That was Merlin’s voice on the other side of the door, faint and uncertain.  Arthur didn’t care what it was going to look like, he needed that door open and fast.

“In here!”

He heard the door rattle and realised Cenred had locked it.

“Arthur’s busy, little boy,” Cenred called.  “Go and suck off his dad or something!”

There was an almighty crash and the door burst in on its hinges.  For a moment Arthur thought that Merlin was a lot stronger than he looked, then he realised that there were two people standing in the doorway.

“Get the hell off my son!” Uther snarled.  He grabbed Cenred by the back of the man’s shirt and dragged him out into the hallway.  “You’re fired.  Get out!  Now!  And don’t you ever come back!”

Cenred didn’t need telling twice.  He glared at Arthur, then headed straight out of the front door. 

“Are you okay?” Merlin asked, bringing Arthur out into the hall.  After a moment’s hesitation Arthur threw caution to the wind and drew Merlin into a hug. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry.  Thanks to you and my father.  I wasn’t sure if you’d seen me!”

“Yeah,” Merlin seemed in no hurry to let him go.  “My dad’s outside talking to Gaius, so I came in to see if we could ease our fathers’ meeting somehow.  And then your dad came over to greet me and we realised you were locked in here.  He kicked the door in!”

Uther really did not look good, Arthur thought.  He could see his father over Merlin’s shoulder.  Uther looked tired and pale, and paused for a moment before coming over to check on Arthur.

“Cat, are you okay?  He didn’t hurt you or… anything?”

Arthur’s head was aching where Cenred had hit him, but he decided not to worry his father with that.  He released Merlin and faced his father.  “I’m fine, Dad, don’t worry.”

“It was fortunate that Merlin saw you and realised there was something wrong.  I should have sacked Cenred a long time ago, he’s been nothing but trouble.  And to try this… Arthur, if you want me to call the police then just say.”

Arthur shook his head.  “Nothing happened.  It would be all over the papers and nothing good would come of it.  He’s gone, let’s just forget it.”

And that was when Gaius chose to come in with Balinor.

“Uther, what’s going on?” Gaius asked.  “Cenred says you’ve fired him.  I mean, he’s always been difficult but sacking him?”

Uther waved the question away, his eyes firmly on Gaius’ companion.  “He deserved it.”

“Oh that’s right!  Sack the poor lad!” Balinor snarled.  “Just like you sacked me all those years ago!  You haven’t changed a bit, Uther Pendragon!”

Uther gave him an incredulous look.  “You walked out!  I never sacked you!”

“You made it impossible to stay!  You and your ego!”

“You wanted me playing bloody tambourines!”

“On one track!  Just one!”

“You asked for it to be on the whole album!”

“Just one album then!  You’ve made loads of them.”

“Please tell me they didn’t fall out over tambourines,” Arthur whispered to Merlin.  “All that time… that’s just stupid.”

“And not one of those albums has sounded how I wanted because my damned lead guitarist went off in a huff back in the early days!” Uther yelled back.  “What kind of… of…”  He stopped talking, suddenly looking very pale, his hand on his chest.  “Oh… god…”

“Dad?” Arthur took a step towards his father.  “What’s happening?”  Vaguely he was aware of some woman screaming in the background.  Like that would help.

“Uther?” Balinor’s anger appeared to have evaporated instantaneously.  He rushed to his old bandmate’s side, supporting him because Uther looked on the point of collapse.  “Get an ambulance!” he yelled.  “Now!”

Merlin pulled his phone out, but George was faster.  He was already on his mobile, talking fast to whoever was on the other end, his face deadly serious.  Arthur could barely understand what he was saying.  All he could see was his father sinking to the floor, Merlin’s father right there with him.  If Balinor hadn’t been holding him up Arthur had no doubt that Uther would have just toppled over.  As it was, Balinor lowered Uther to the floor with surprising gentleness, given their argument only moments before.  Arthur knelt down beside them, unsure what to do.  His father was gasping for breath.

And then he wasn’t.

“Dad?” Arthur froze for a moment, not sure what was happening.  Because what seemed to be happening was just too much to take in.  Nervously he reached out to press his fingers against Uther’s carotid artery, afraid of what he might find. “Dad!” 

Morgana was back downstairs in moments, her face pale and drawn, tears welling up in her eyes.  “Oh my god, what happened?  I heard screaming!  Is he dead?  Arthur!  He’s not breathing! Is he dead?”

“I can’t feel a pulse!” Arthur gasped.  “Oh god!”  Uther couldn’t be dead.  There were things you were supposed to do… mouth to mouth and hitting the person’s chest… but Arthur had never taken any first aid training and had no idea what to do.  He doubted Morgana would know either.  And George was still on the phone. But help came from a surprising quarter.

“Out of the way, boy,” Balinor ordered, pushing Arthur aside and checking Uther’s pulse for himself.  “Damn… Okay, you must have a first aid kit in this bloody palace.  Find it, see if there’s a CPR mask.  And aspirin.  Get aspirin.”

Arthur stared at him for a moment, then scrambled to his feet.  There was a box in the studio, he was sure of it.  He could remember his father complaining about health and safety nonsense spoiling the aesthetic of the place.  But Gaius had insisted on it.  Gaius had tried to get them all on a first aid course too, just in case some drunken musician passed out in a sea of their own vomit and needed reviving.  They’d always expected it to be Cenred or Gwaine.  Not Uther. Arthur had been a petulant teenager at the time and had just said no for the sake of it.  How he wished he’d listened now.

Merlin was suddenly right there in front of him, taking hold of his arms and giving him a little shake.  “Arthur!  Arthur!”

Arthur looked up dazedly.

“Lance has gone for the first aid kit.  Gaius had aspirin on him – seems we all give him headaches!  You don’t need to do anything, just stay with your dad, okay?  George has called emergency services and Gwen’s calling his private healthcare.  They’re sending a helicopter to beat the media scrum that’s going to happen.  So you don’t go anywhere, maybe stick with your sister because she’ll need you, right?”

Arthur nodded mutely.  He was vaguely aware that Gwaine and Leon were herding people out of the room.  “No, they’ll block the way for emergency services if they leave!”

“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Merlin assured him.  “Gwaine and Leon are moving everyone into another room, that’s all.  After they’ve taken your father to hospital, they and Lance will sort everything here.  Don’t worry about any of that.  Gwaine’s not actually the drunken idiot everyone thinks he is.”  He paused, regarding Arthur worriedly for a moment.  “Arthur, you’re hyperventilating. You need to calm down.  Breathe slow and deep, along with me.  In… and out… in… and out… slowly…. That’s it.  Good.  Keep doing that… Good.”

Arthur hadn’t even realised he’d been doing it, but as he slowed down his breathing with Merlin’s encouragement he became aware of the reaction he’d been having.  His father was lying there on the hall carpet, and for all Arthur knew he was already dead.  Balinor was kneeling over him, giving him CPR.  The thought cleared his head, and Arthur nodded to Merlin.

“I’m okay.  Thanks.  Sorry.” Ashamed at his brief panic, Arthur knelt back down beside his father.  “What can I do?” he asked Balinor. 

Balinor was carrying out chest compressions on Uther.  He seemed to know what he was doing, for which Arthur was deeply thankful. 

“Where’s the first aid kit?” Balinor growled.  “Need a CPR mask.”

“It’s on its way,” Arthur assured him.

“Okay.  Watch me because I want you to take over the compressions.” He was speaking at the same beat as he was using for the compressions on Uther’s chest.  “See I’m pushing down hard, you do that boy.  Don’t worry you’ll hurt him.  Put one hand on top of the other.  Match my rhythm.  Know _Stayin’ Alive?_ ”

Arthur nodded.

“Good.  That’s the beat you use for compressions.  Okay, take over.”

Arthur suddenly found himself in the terrifying position of keeping his father alive.  He pushed down.

“Harder than that, boy!  Come on!” Balinor yelled.  “Again.  Harder!  That’s it!  Keep it up!”

Lance skidded to a stop beside them, thrusting the CPR mask into Balinor’s hands.  Balinor fitted the mask to Uther’s face, then bent over him.

“This doesn’t mean I love you or anything, you stupid lug!” he muttered, and then began to administer rescue breaths while Arthur carried on with the chest compressions.

“Keep going, Arthur,” Morgana urged, kneeling awkwardly in the tight green dress that she probably regretted changing into.  “You’re doing great.”

Arthur didn’t answer, concentrating on what he was doing.  If this worked he swore he was going to go on every first aid course he could.  That sudden feeling of complete helplessness had been horrendous.  He was never, ever going to feel like that again. 

Suddenly Uther coughed and spluttered, and Balinor straightened up with a relieved grin.  “Damn!”

“Oh!  Thank you!” Morgana flung her arms around Balinor.  “I don’t know who you are, but _thank you!”_

“He’s my dad,” Merlin supplied. 

Uther was still coughing weakly, barely conscious.  Balinor rolled him onto his side, into the recovery position. 

“What do we do now?” Arthur wanted to know.  Uther still looked deathly pale, although better than he had a few minutes earlier. 

“We just wait for emergency services.  Where’s that aspirin?” Balinor looked around, and Merlin handed it over.  Balinor crushed it, then fed it to Uther.  “Chew that, it’ll help with the blood clots.”

“How do you know all this?” Morgana asked. 

“Too much time spent in small venues with people who drink and smoke too much.  Sometimes these things happen.  I found I’d rather know how to try and help than just stand by and watch while someone died.”

“We’ll learn,” Arthur promised and Morgana nodded furiously in agreement. 

“Will he be okay?” she asked.  She’d taken Uther’s hand and was holding it like some precious thing.  He had his eyes open, but wasn’t saying anything, just gazing at his two children.  “Oh, say he’ll be okay.”

“He’s awake and breathing, that’s good enough for now.  See what the doctors say,” Balinor told her. 

Right on cue, there was the distinct sound of helicopter blades whirring in the sky outside, getting closer.  Arthur hoped it was the emergency services and not the press.  It would all be out there by now, because someone amongst their guests was bound to have already put the news out on social media and then it would spread like wildfire.

“You’re going to be okay,” Morgana told Uther gently.  “The paramedics are here, everything’s going to be okay.”  But Arthur didn’t miss the terrified glance that she gave him as soon as the emergency services swept into the room and surrounded Uther.

Arthur put his arms round her, because there wasn’t really anything else he could do.

 

The hospital was a blur of activity. 

Uther was in a private wing, and had taken over one end of it because of the inevitable media scrum outside.  Every single person who came in had to be approved, and at least four times so far journalists had attempted to get in.  Arthur was sick of it.  How would they like it if their parents were ill and they were surrounded by people trying to get pictures and stories?  And worse, all the space that security were taking up could have been used by people who desperately needed treatment.

He and Morgana had been allowed to fly out with Uther, but that was all and even then the paramedics were reluctant.  But he’d managed to ask for them, and that was enough.  And then there was the terrifying flight, when they briefly thought he was going to have another attack, and then just waiting.

Morgana was still in the fitted green dress and high heels she’d changed into for the party.  Her makeup had run a little, and one of the nurses had given her a blanket because she was shivering.  Arthur sat with her, because until the doctors had finished treating Uther there was nothing else they could do.  And Morgana needed him, of that there was no doubt.  He needed her, too.

After an hour or so, they were joined by those who’d had to make their way by road.  Gwen had brought a change of clothes for Morgana, and immediately took over as her chief comforter.  Deprived of his main distraction, Arthur suddenly felt lost.

“Arthur?” 

It was Merlin, come along with Balinor and Uther’s bandmates.  Arthur immediately started to thank Balinor again for what he’d done, but the man just held up a hand.

“No, just pay it forward and learn.  Trust me, boy, it’s worth it.  Now any news yet?”

Arthur shook his head.  Merlin moved close and put his arm around Arthur.

“He’ll be okay, I’m sure of it,” Balinor told them.  “He was conscious and talking when they flew him here.  That’s a really good sign.”

Arthur couldn’t help taking the opportunity to hold Merlin back.  Merlin felt warm and comforting and was everything that Arthur needed just then. 

“Ah, it’s like that is it?” Balinor rolled his eyes, and moved away to talk to Gaius, Gwaine and Lance. “Business relationship my eye!”

“Thanks for coming,” Arthur whispered to Merlin.  “I guess he’s pretty important to you.”

“Yes, but I didn’t come for Uther,” Merlin assured him, snuggling closer. “I’m here for you.”

Arthur briefly heard the little warning voice in his head that told him that it was a terrible idea to mix business and pleasure.  But it was a very boring little voice and he pushed it aside.  “Thanks,” he told Merlin.  “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“No problem,” Merlin assured him.  “It’s insane outside.  There’s reporters everywhere.  And some tribute act’s set up across the street from the hospital and is playing all Uther’s songs.  I’m not sure what they’re trying to achieve, but people are putting flowers and candles round him.  It’s like some sort of pagan ritual.  It’s completely mad!”

Arthur could well imagine the scene.  It was probably Other Pendragon, the chief tribute artist.  Uther hated him with a passion and wouldn’t be at all pleased to learn the man was outside the hospital. 

“Don’t tell my father,” Arthur urged.  “He loathes tribute acts.”

Merlin smiled at that.  “We’ll try to keep it from him.  Do you want a coffee or anything?  I bet you haven’t had anything.”

Arthur had actually been pushing hot sweet tea from the vending machine at Morgana for the past hour or so, but just let Merlin get him another cup.  It meant that Merlin felt he was doing something to help even if it was a tiny gesture, and Arthur knew how important that felt.  He looked around for Morgana while he was waiting, and saw her coming back with Gwen.  She was dressed simply in jeans and a soft sweater, but somehow still always managed to look like a supermodel. 

“Any news?” she immediately asked, sitting down next to him. 

Arthur shook his head.  “Why’s it taking so long?”

Merlin returned with Arthur’s coffee.  He greeted Morgana with a hug.  “Would you like a coffee too?” he asked.

Morgana shook her head, then suddenly jumped to her feet as the door to Uther’s ward opened and one of the doctors came out and headed towards them. 

“How is he?” Morgana demanded as soon as the woman approached.  “Is he okay?  Can we see him?”

 The doctor gave her a tired smile.  “Your father’s going to be fine.  He’s sitting up and holding court in there.  Two of my nurses and one of the porters are huge fans and he seems to be enjoying that.  You and your brother can go in, and perhaps a couple more.  No more than four people at a time, absolute limit.  Now, can you point me towards someone called George?  Apparently he’s my best chance of sending out a report that will clear the horrendous media circus that’s been set up outside!”

“I’ll find him for you,” Merlin offered.  He gently touched Arthur’s arm.  “I’ll wait out here for you.  Tell your dad we’re all rooting for him.”

Arthur nodded, and followed his sister across the waiting area and through the doors to the ward.  He smiled at Balinor and Gaius, who were standing close to the doors, waiting.  “He’s okay,” Arthur told them.

Uther was better than okay.  When Arthur and Morgana went in they found him signing autographs for the two nurses.  Arthur might have rolled his eyes at any other time, but he was just too relieved.  His father still looked pale, but so much better than he had done lying on the floor in the hallway of Pendragon Manor.

“Cat!  Morgana!” To be fair, Uther did look pleased to see them.  Morgana rushed over to hug him, then started crying again. 

“Morgana…” Uther tried to take her hand but he was wired up to rather a lot of monitors, and couldn’t reach that far.

“I thought you’d _died_ you silly old fool!” she sobbed.  Arthur put his arms round her, not really sure what else to do.  He smiled fondly at his father over the top of Morgana’s head, too relieved to react any other way.  He could understand why Morgana was crying – he felt like crying too.

“Not this time,” Uther told them.  “I gather that’s thanks to Balinor.  And you, Cat.  I don’t remember any of it, but they tell me the two of you did CPR and I’d probably be dead if it wasn’t for the pair of you.  Thank you.”

Arthur shook his head.  “I just did what Balinor told me.  He’s the one that saved you.  It was lucky he was there.  He’s waiting outside with Gaius, Lance and Gwaine.”

“Is he?” Uther turned and smiled at the two nurses.  “Would you ladies mind giving us a moment?  And do find my man George out there, give him your emails and we’re be sure to send you two and your friend VIP tickets to the next concerts.”

“You are _not_ going back on stage!” Morgana gasped.  “Look at you!  You’re all wired up to a cardiac monitor and… and _things!_ You’re retiring and no arguments!”

“Oh no, I’ll be out of here in a few days,” Uther told her.  “And I’m certainly far too young to retire.  Now where’s Balinor?  Get him in here!”

“No more arguments,” Arthur warned, but went to the door and called Balinor in.  Gaius, Lance and Gwaine followed him.  “Er, they said not more than four visitors.”

Gwaine shrugged.  “It’s a big room for one guy!  We’ll fit!  Besides, we’re his bandmates!”

Balinor wasn’t, Arthur thought.  Yet he looked as if he should be.  He was getting along just fine with Lance and Gwaine as far as Arthur could tell. 

Gaius shuffled over to Uther’s bedside, Gwaine and Lance following.  Balinor hung behind a little, but Morgana immediately jumped up, wiped her face on her sleeve and then pulled him over to join them. 

“This is the man who saved your life!” she told Uther.  “We all owe him a huge debt!”

Balinor and Uther looked at one another, both slightly wary.

“Thank you,” Morgana mouthed at Uther.

Uther said nothing for a few moments.  Then he spoke.  “I suppose you should think about re-joining the band.  Just in case I need you to save my life again.”

Balinor shrugged.  “Suppose I could think about it.  It’s about time you had someone who can play the guitar solo on _Dragonlord_ properly.  God, you’ve had some wasters making a hash of that over the years!  That guy you sacked was possibly the worst.”

“No question,” Arthur agreed.  He really hoped that the two of them would settle their differences.  It would make his future with Merlin a lot easier.  And it would probably be really good for the two old friends as well.

Uther shot him a concerned look but Arthur shrugged it off.  He was fine, after all.  It had shaken him at the time but it could have been far worse.  And the fear of losing his father had pushed all that aside. 

“The worst is probably that guy across the street right now murdering half your songs!” Balinor told him.  “Honestly, he’s an even worse singer than you!”

Uther immediately looked to Gaius.  “Is it that _copier_?”

“I’m afraid so,” Gaius told him cheerfully.  “Other Pendragon is on all the news channels.  He’s your number one fan… he says.”

“If that damned tribute band thinks I’m going to die so that he can live off my work for the rest of his life he’s got another think coming!” Uther growled.  “Other Pendragon indeed!” 

“I’m sure you’re supposed to stay calm, father,” Arthur reminded him. 

“You should have thought of that when you let this crowd in, Cat!”

Honestly, if anyone was going to get stressed it would be Arthur.  Uther’s insistence on using his stupid name was going to drive him insane.  Perhaps Merlin would be up for running away and living on a desert island somewhere instead.  Somewhere that had no Uther fans at all.  The nurses had their faces pressed to the little windows in the doors.  Uther was obviously going to get the full VIP treatment while he was there.

“What’s going on in here?”  The doctor was back, and didn’t look too happy at the number of visitors in Uther’s room.  “Can we not count?  Four, I said.”

“Sorry ma’am,” Gaius headed for the door.

“And the rest of you.  Family only, I want to discuss Mr Pendragon’s health with him.  Are you happy for your children to stay?” she checked.

Uther nodded, watching his band leaving, then called out. “Balinor?”

Merlin’s father looked back over his shoulder at Uther to see what he wanted.

“You’ll think about it, coming back? We’ve got a vacancy, and you’ve always been missed. You were always the best lead guitarist there ever was.”

Balinor gave a short, curt nod.  “I’ll think about it,” he promised.

“Think about it?” Gwaine exclaimed.  “Me and Lance are taking you to the bar my friend.  We’ll persuade you _exactly_ why you need to rejoin the Pendragons.”

“It’ll be the Dragons again,” Balinor warned.

“Even better!” Gwaine cheered.

“You realise there’s no bar and this is a hospital?” Arthur heard Lance say just as the doors closed behind the band.

Uther smiled a little at that.  He looked tired, and Arthur thought that perhaps he and Morgana should leave him to rest soon. 

“Now, we’ve run quite a lot of tests, and there are more to do.  But the prognosis is very good.”

“Thank god!” Morgana exclaimed.  Arthur hoped she wasn’t about to hug the doctor. 

“Yes, well you’ve been extremely lucky.  The heart muscle isn’t too badly damaged and you should within reason make a full recovery,” the doctor said.  “We’ll start looking at aftercare, but you should be home within a few days.”

Uther waved her aside.  “I’m fine, no reason I can’t go home right now.”

“It was a warning, Mr Pendragon,” the doctor told Uther sternly.  “If you want to remain a living legend, you need to ease off the stress and the alcohol.  Next time you might not be so lucky.”

“Oh, we’ll make sure he keeps off the alcohol,” Morgana assured the doctor.  “I’ve put a lock on the bar and he can request his weekly allowance from me or Arthur.”

Uther glanced at Arthur hopefully, then away but not quite quickly enough.  Morgana had noticed.

“On second thoughts, just from me!” Morgana glared at Uther, daring him to argue.  “We’ve only got one parent left, annoying and embarrassing as he is, and we’d actually quite like to keep him!  So, fourteen units a week from now on, Father!  And no more!”

“Fourteen units a week!” Uther sighed.  “Why didn’t I die…?”

Getting into the hospital had been fairly easy, although Arthur recalled very little about it.  There had been noise and lights and people shouting out orders.  And in the middle of it all was his father on a gurney, pale and quiet. 

Coming out was completely different.  The press rushed at him as soon as he, Merlin and Morgana emerged.  Arthur had an overwhelming urge to race straight back inside. 

“Cat, how’s your father?”

“Is there any more news?”

“What brought it on, Morgana?”

“Is it true he’ll never perform live ever again?”

“Was it brought on by the shock of his first number one in over three years?”

There were flashes going off, so many of them that Arthur could barely see his way to the waiting car.  Emotionally exhausted, speaking to them was the very last thing he wanted to do.  He kept his sister close, a protective arm around her.

It was Merlin who shielded them from it, or tried to.  He stepped between Arthur and the reporters, holding up a hand in an attempt to protect his eyes from the flashes. 

“Uther’s fine,” he told them.  “He’s been sitting up and talking to us.  Nothing to worry about, you can all go home.”

Merlin had a lot to learn about the press, Arthur thought.  All his actions did were to bring on more questions.  It was quite difficult to get to the car although one of Uther’s bodyguards had come down with them and was trying to clear the way. 

“I’d really like to get home,” Arthur attempted. 

“Morgana, is it true that you’ve been a victim of fraud and the stress of that caused Uther’s collapse?”

“No comment!” Arthur snapped angrily.  He saw the way his sister had winced as the reporter asked that one. 

“Is it just a publicity stunt?”

“Is it true that he died for several minutes?”

“No.  No comment.”

“Please let us through,” the bodyguard insisted.  “No more questions.”

That didn’t stop them.  But finally Arthur found the car in front of him, with the door open.  He pushed Morgana in then practically threw himself inside, Merlin scrambling in after them.  The door shut behind them.

“This won’t stop until they’ve got something,” Arthur sighed.  The car was only able to inch its way forward and there were people surrounding it, banging on the windows.  “They’ll make it impossible for the emergency services to get patients into the hospital.  George gave them a statement hours ago, isn’t that enough?”

“Seems not.” Merlin ducked as yet another flash went off, even though the car’s tinted windows probably made it impossible for anyone to get a picture of the people inside.  “We’re going to be all over the papers tomorrow.”

Arthur stared miserably out of the window, wishing that they were free of it.  If his father had died, these people would all still be there pointing cameras in Arthur and Morgana’s faces, trying to get shots of their grief. 

Outside, it was starting to rain.  That felt right, somehow. 

“He’ll be okay, won’t he?” Morgana whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.  “I feel as if we should have stayed there with him.”

Uther had been asleep when they left.  Leaving, apparently, emphasised the message to the world that everything was okay.  George was still up there of course, faithful to the last.  Arthur knew their father was in the safest hands possible and they could contribute nothing by being there.  Still, he understood exactly what Morgana meant.

“He’ll be fine,” Arthur assured her.  “Ignore all this.  These are the same people who made a news story out of the Duchess of Sussex closing a car door by herself!  So we go home, get a good night’s sleep, and come back in the morning.  He’ll probably have done an interview by lunchtime, and then they’ll all clear off and find someone else to pester.”

“We stressed him though.  My business failure, your run-in with Cenred, then his fight with Merlin’s father… I feel guilty.  The doctor said it would have happened anyway, but I still feel as if it were our fault.”

“Don’t,” Merlin urged her.  “You can’t change what happened.  And with his lifestyle it was bound to happen.  He drinks whisky as if it were water.  And he works too hard, long hours.  I’ve seen it all over the last few weeks, working with him.  I’ve been exhausted, and he’s just kept on going.  It’s not you.”  He reached across Arthur to briefly squeeze her hand.  “Never think that.  Either of you.”

And there it was, that sweet basic kindness that sang from the depths of Merlin’s soul.  It was one of the many things that Arthur loved about him.  _Liked_ about him, Arthur reminded himself.  But no, he knew he should call it what it was, or what it was becoming.  On impulse Arthur put his arm around Merlin so that he had two people he loved cuddled up to him. 

“You’re such a softie,” Morgana murmured against his shoulder.

“Me?” Merlin asked.

“Both of you,” she told them tiredly.  “Please stay, Merlin. You make my brother so much better to be around.”

“Right here,” Arthur reminded her.

“Yes. Exactly.” Morgana’s voice wasn’t more than a whisper, and a moment later there was a gentle snore as she fell asleep.

Under any other circumstances Arthur would have tried to reach his camera and take a blackmail picture, but instead he just smiled fondly at her for a few moments, then looked at Merlin.  Merlin was gazing back at him, looking much like he had when they’d shot that album cover.  Except there was something more now in the way that he looked at Arthur.  It was caring and hopeful, held in those blue eyes.

“I can stay,” Merlin whispered, snuggling close enough that Arthur could feel warm breath on his face.  “I want to, just so you know. But only if _you_ want me to.”

He wasn’t Cedric.  Merlin was a world away from Cedric.  This time it would be all right.

“Yes,” Arthur whispered back, wishing that he didn’t have Morgana with them so that he could kiss Merlin and do all the other things he wanted to right there and then.  “I do.”

Sunlight filtered through the half-open curtains of Arthur’s bedroom, waking him from a deep, exhausted sleep.

There was a warm weight curled against him.  Merlin, breathing deep and evenly, a gentle smile of contentment playing across his features even in sleep.

Arthur took a moment just to drink in the peaceful sight, because as soon as Merlin awoke that would all be gone.  Merlin never kept still for long.  He slept like a log, though.

After a while, attractive as the sight in front of him was, Arthur knew he had to check on Uther.  He didn’t want to, just in case it wasn’t good news, but the question would be gnawing at him until he knew. 

Carefully, trying hard not to wake his slumbering partner, Arthur climbed out of bed.  He picked up his phone and padded over to the en suite.  Only when the door was closed did he check for messages.  The fact that there were none was an excellent sign.  Taking heart from that, he called the hospital to check.

The line to Uther’s ward was engaged.  Of course, it was the weekend and the nurses had said something about the media relations officer having to come in specially.  One person wouldn’t be able to handle the current onslaught of attention and the main line was probably swamped too.  Still, Uther had been doing well the previous night and might well have his mobile there by now so Arthur called him instead.

“Cat!”

Uther picked up almost immediately.  Arthur’s shoulders sagged in relief.  “Dad!  How are you doing?”

“They’ve put me on rabbit food, Cat.  _Rabbit food_!  And George won’t bring me a bacon sandwich!  I’ve told him he’s sacked!”

Arthur couldn’t help laughing, knowing it was an empty threat.  “You’re not sacking George.  And I’ll support his claim for unfair dismissal if you do.”

“There is such a thing as family loyalty, Cat.”

“Arthur.  And Morgana and I will be in later to visit.  We’ll bring grapes or something.  And no, before you ask, not fermented ones!”

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone.  “Sometimes I wonder if you two are really mine?  Perhaps you were swapped at birth or something.”

“If only,” Arthur agreed, still smiling.  His father sounded so much better, and a lot more cheerful than usual.  It was probably the adulation on tap from those two nurses.  And the fact that he was all over the news and alive to enjoy it.

“Oh no, the doctor’s here and she’s brought reinforcements.  I have to go.  I’ll see you later.  Oh, and Cat?”

It was hopeless.  Arthur just gave up even trying to correct him.  “Yes?”

“Thank you for saving my life.”

The phone went dead before Arthur could protest that it had been mostly Balinor.  But then he supposed that Uther knew that anyway. 

Arthur took a few moments to freshen up a little bit before going back to Merlin.  It had been so late when they’d got back, and anyway all the two of them had wanted to do was tumble into bed together anyway. 

It had been good. Of that there was no question.  Better than good.  Amazing.  And now Arthur wanted to get back to Merlin and explore every inch of him.  He headed back for the bedroom eagerly, then stopped short in the doorway to the en suite at the sight in front of him.

Merlin was awake. Merlin was awake and sitting up in bed, phone in hand…

Arthur felt a cold chill of fear pass over him.  He took a step back, wondering if it was too late to go back into the bathroom, lock the door and never come out?  Had Merlin already taken pictures?  Had Merlin already posted them on the twitter account that Arthur had encouraged him to set up?

Merlin looked up from his phone, smiling a little shyly.  “Hi.”

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, trying not to panic.  Merlin wouldn’t do that to him.  This was Merlin, not Cedric.  Merlin was kind and honest and good.

“Arthur, are you okay?  I could hear you were talking in there.  Is it your dad?” Merlin sounded worried and when Arthur opened his eyes he saw his lover was getting out of bed.

No, he was being ridiculous.  This was a good thing that they had going and he wasn’t going to ruin it.

“Stay there,” Arthur told him.  “Just… can you put your phone down?”

Merlin still looked worried, but quickly put his phone on the bedside table, not even glancing back at it.  Arthur relaxed just a little.  And that was when Merlin must have realised because his expression changed from worried to horrified.

“Oh! You thought I was taking more pictures! Oh no, Arthur!  No, I’d never do that!  Never!  Not to anyone, and absolutely not to you!”  He scrambled out of bed, picking up his phone and rushing over.  “Look!  I was just texting Freya back because she’d seen us on the news, that was all.  And look at my photos, the last one I took was a selfie with Isolde the other day.”

Arthur found himself looking down at a picture of Merlin looking a little bit star-struck with Isolde smiling kindly at the screen. 

“You can go through everything on there if it makes you feel more comfortable,” Merlin assured him.  “I don’t mind.  Though I warn you now you’ll see some texts from a month or so back to my mate Will where I’m complaining about the giant prat I met the first day I walked in here!”

“Oh, prat is it?” Arthur asked, feeling more reassured by the moment.  Of _course_ Merlin would never do anything like that. 

“Prat or clotpole or something,” Merlin told him gently.  “I’m sure only the world’s biggest one would stand here looking at my phone when we could be back in his bed.”

“I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“I didn’t even think.  I should have.  I’m sorry too.” Merlin looked down for a moment, then a cheeky grin spread itself across his face.  “I think this means we need make-up sex.  Lots of it!”

Arthur wasn’t going to argue with that.  Instead he pulled Merlin into his arms to kiss him. 

Then he took him by the hand and led him back to their bed.

Merlin thought he could get used to waking up in Arthur’s home.

He’d stayed a few times recently, but it had always been in the guest room.  Sleeping in Arthur’s frankly ridiculously large suite of rooms was something else.  Arthur clearly needed a second person living in there with him because it was far too big for him by himself.  Even if he was going to convert half of it into a study.  Also there was no crying baby nearby so even if it had been a hovel it would have been better than Merlin’s home. 

And there was Arthur. Golden, glorious Arthur and his perfect body and beautiful face.  Merlin thought he might already be a little in love with the man. 

They’d emerged earlier than either of them would have liked, but there were things to be organised and hospitals to visit.  And as Arthur had shyly pointed out, they could always do it again the following night.  Merlin noted the fact that the man who was so confident in other ways was quite insecure in their fledgling relationship.  The reasons were plain to see.  But Merlin intended healing all the hurt that Cedric had caused.  And Cedric had better keep away from Merlin, because Merlin wasn’t sure he’d be able to restrain himself if the opportunity arose to retaliate.

Merlin and Arthur headed down to the dining room hand in hand in search of any remaining breakfast.  Sometimes it felt like being in a hotel.  Unfortunately, it was one with other guests.  And those guests soon shattered the romantic mood…

“Ah, look who’s doing the walk of shame!” Gwaine yelled from the dining table.  That was a bit much coming from someone who had absolutely no shame at all.  And also who had got Leon there with him looking unusually unkempt and still wearing last night’s clothes.  “Merlin, you tart!  Is that Arthur’s shirt?”

Morgana wasn’t any better.

“Oh, good morning Arthur… or is it afternoon?” She held her arm out and twisted her wrist to look far too theatrically at her watch.  “Ah, not _quite_ afternoon then!  Merlin too!  What a _surprise!_   I could have sworn the guest room was empty!”

“Which one?” Merlin asked, sitting down at the table beside Arthur and starting to help himself to cereal.  “I mean, there are so many.”

Morgana smirked back at him.  “Very funny.  Aww Cocoa Pops Merlin?  Are you five?”

Merlin decided not to point out that as the box was one of the ones on the table he clearly wasn’t the only one who liked the chocolate rice cereal.  As Arthur took the box from him a moment later it was obvious who that other one was.

“Oh, they’re too cute!” Morgana cooed.  “Look at them both!”

“I spoke to Dad earlier,” Arthur told Morgana, probably trying to change the subject.  “He sounds fine, though he’s not liking the diet in there.  I said we’d be in this afternoon.  I thought we could sort out signing for the boutique first?  And then see if we can do anything to help with the media scrum outside the hospital.  Perhaps offer them interviews away from there or something?”

The distraction worked, and the pair of them started making plans.  Merlin started in on his breakfast.  He was hungry, having missed dinner the previous night.

There were a couple of newspapers on the table.  Uther’s regular delivery, which he probably wouldn’t be reading on this occasion.  Leon was reading one so Merlin pulled the other one over to look at.

“The King’s NOT Dead’ the headline proclaimed proudly and tastefully.  “Uther saved by gay son and ex-bandmate!” was the sub-heading, along with a photo of Arthur and Morgana leaving the hospital in the early hours of the morning.  The rest of the story was much of the same sort of thing.  Merlin quickly put it down with an expression of disgust.

“This one’s better,” Leon assured him, passing the paper he’d been reading over to Merlin.

The other paper had the far less sensational headline of “Uther Pendragon in Heart Scare”.  It then very sensibly went on to quote George’s press release of what actually happened followed by advice on the importance of learning CPR.     

“I don’t know why they don’t have photos of me,” Gwaine commented.  “I went out and supported George while he was talking to them.  I’m not in any of them”

“Perhaps they didn’t recognise you with your shirt on?” Merlin offered. 

“Says the man who’s spent the night with no shirt or anything else on.”

“Pot.  Kettle?” Merlin replied, grinning at Arthur who just gave him a little nod of agreement. 

“Why are you two here, Gwaine?” Arthur asked curiously.  “I mean, last time I checked neither of you actually live here.”

“Moral support,” Gwaine told him without a hint of guile.  “We wanted to be here for you and Morgana.  It’s not like you don’t have a million guest rooms here.  Plus, free breakfast.”

“Your selflessness is unbelievable,” Arthur told him.  “Well we’re fine, our father’s doing well and we thank you for your concern.”

“I did tell him it was a bit of a cheek,” Leon pointed out worriedly.  Merlin wondered if he thought he was about to get thrown out.  It seemed unlikely.  Leon was Arthur’s best friend as far as Merlin could tell.  Though he’d shagged Gwaine, whom Arthur had at least at one point wanted for himself.  Perhaps there was a risk of them getting thrown out after all.  He looked at Arthur, but the man was just eating his cereal and showing no signs of being about to stage an eviction.

“There is one other thing,” Morgana said.  “We thought all three of us should be here to tell you.”

That sounded ominous.

“Yes,” Gwaine agreed.  “We didn’t want to tell you until we were sure Uther was out of danger, but there’s been some other news this morning.”

“You’re not going to like it,” Leon added.  “It seems the publicity from the _Father and Son_ song this week increased your votes…”

Arthur paused, the spoonful of Cocoa Pops halfway to his mouth.  “Votes?”

“Yes,” Gwaine continued.  “You won.  Rear of the Year.  It’s you.”

“You’re officially an arse,” Morgana told him gleefully

“A very attractive one,” Gwaine put in.

“But still an arse.” Morgana confirmed. 

Arthur just stared at them all in shock for a few moments, then shook his head. “Votes?” he repeated.  “Have people got nothing else to do?”

“Apparently not,” Leon said pointedly, and then became very interested in the newspaper.

Arthur narrowed his eyes suspiciously at that.  “Hang on.  How do you three know about this so fast?”

“Because they all voted for you,” Merlin accused, and immediately saw from the faces of the three people around the table that this was true.

“Not me!” Leon protested!  “I told them not to!”

“We didn’t listen, obviously,” Gwaine put in.

“I only did it in the last few days when you started working with Merlin,” Morgana added.  “Because it won’t cause any problems for you with work now you’re in the music industry and anyway now you’re a prize-winning arse and I _couldn’t_ pass that opportunity up!”

“Gwaine put a link to the voting on his twitter,” Leon glared at his boyfriend or whatever it was that they were now.  “He’s jealous, he’d _love_ to win Rear of the Year!”

Gwaine shrugged.  “There’s always next year.  I’m going to try harder.”

Merlin didn’t doubt it.  But he looked at Arthur, worried about how he was going to handle this.  He’d been so upset by it in the past, thinking it was going to ruin his chances of serious work.  Although as a musician’s manager now it probably wouldn’t create too many difficulties.  And it was done now.  Thankfully, Arthur was taking it very well.

“I suppose there are worse things,” he sighed.  “What exactly do I win?”

“The accolades,” Gwaine said. “The fame, the honour!”

 “I think it’s just a trophy,” Morgana told him.  “We’ll put it on the wall next to all the platinum discs.”

Judging by the look on Arthur’s face, that was _not_ going to be happening…


	4. Epilogue – One Year Later…

 

It was the last night of the tour.

Uther, amazingly, had made a full recovery.  Morgana claimed that this was due to her strict monitoring of his drinking and diet.  Uther claimed it was because he was strong as an ox and everyone needed to stop fussing.  Most people did.  Morgana wasn’t most people.

Balinor had returned to The Dragons, as they were known once more.  Somehow he and Uther had worked things out without either of them actually apologising.  Arthur knew that if he asked either of them they were both bound to say that they were in the right and that the other one was wrong.

He didn’t ask them.

Really, he didn’t need to.  All they did was bicker and snipe at each other, which appeared to be their own special way of showing affection.  It was ridiculous.  But, somehow, it worked.

Six months after his collapse, Uther’s doctors had decreed that he had made an almost complete recovery and was fit enough to go out on tour.  Morgana had begged and pleaded, but to no avail.  Uther was determined.  There was a single charity concert in aid of the hospital that had helped him after the heart attack, and when that was a huge success Uther insisted on going back on the road.

It was to be The Dragons’ reunion tour. Twenty dates at various stadiums around Europe, publicising the _Cat_ album, the very old Dragons albums, and also featuring a few new songs because Uther and Balinor were writing together again.

Uther had asked Merlin to be the support act.  It was a great opportunity and Arthur had accepted for him immediately.  Then they’d hurried away and had a small breakdown because it was a _stadium_ tour and was going to be massive, and that was slightly terrifying for the young artist and his novice manager.

But it had all gone very well.  Merlin had thrown up before the first show because of nerves, but he went on and did a fairly good performance.  The next show was much better, and then after that he was fine.  Going back on later to duet with Uther on _Father and Son_ helped as well.  And so the tour was a success.

It would probably be a while before they played a stadium again, Arthur thought as he watched Merlin from the wings with Gaius and Morgana.  Merlin’s first album was due out in a couple of months, and they’d planned a small tour to promote that.  Initial sales were going well, with a few venues having already sold out.  But they weren’t a fraction of the size of Wembley, where Uther had taken the final four nights of his sell-out tour.

“You guys have been a really great audience,” Merlin was saying.  “I know you’re all here for Uther, and I’m just the annoying time filler at the start…”

There was quite a bit of cheering and clapping and hollering that people loved Merlin.  Arthur leaned against the wall, hidden from view just how he liked it.  Just a few months and Merlin would be headlining his own concerts.  Merlin was going places.  Arthur just hoped that those would be places that Merlin would always want to keep Arthur at his side for. 

On the stage, Merlin held his hand up for quiet.  “Thank you!  I’m going to just play one more song.  It’s one I’ve written myself, and if you’ve been to some of the other concerts on this tour you’ll know this isn’t the song I usually play last.  But this is brand new, and I want to try it out on you guys.  That okay?”

Arthur stood up straight, instantly concerned.  He looked round and found Morgana and Gaius just behind him.  “What’s he doing?  He’s supposed to finish with _Fascinator_!  The band won’t even know what they’re playing!”

Gaius shook his head.  “It’s fine.  They’ve played this through a few times in rehearsal this morning, don’t worry.”

The crowd seemed happy enough to be Merlin’s guinea pigs if their cheering was anything to go by.  But Arthur couldn’t help worrying because this was a break with what was planned and anything could go wrong.

“Obviously you’re supposed to worry, it’s your job,” Gaius added unhelpfully.  “But just this once don’t.”

Merlin had picked up his guitar (a shiny new one these days rather than the battered old thing he’d brought into Uther’s studio when Arthur first met him) and plucked a few experimental chords. 

“Oh no, he’s not supposed to play on stage!” Arthur fretted.  “Who decided he was going to do this?  Why wasn’t I told?  I’m supposed to be his manager!”

Merlin was doing that thing where he ducked his head and spoke into his chest, then looked out at the audience coyly from under his eyelashes.  The camera caught the expression and blew it up on the giant screens on either side of the stage.  The audience loved it.  “This is something I wrote for someone who’s turned into the most important person in my life over the past year.  I just wanted to let them know.  This is _Song for A.”_

Morgana poked Arthur in the ribs as the first chords started up.  “Who could A possibly be?”

“Shh… he’s singing.”

It was a slower song than some of the others, and although the band was backing him up, Merlin seemed very alone on that stage, lit by a single spotlight as he started to sing. 

“Once my life was an empty place

Didn’t know I was looking to fill it

Then all my lonely roads found their way to you

You’re my love, you’re my life, you’re a killer.”

“Really, Arthur?” Morgana whispered.  “You’re a killer?”

“We can work on the lyrics,” Gaius agreed.  “The tune’s good.”

Arthur ignored them both because the man he loved was out there in the spotlight and was singing something he’d written especially for Arthur to thousands of people.  It was sappy and romantic and Arthur just loved it.

“I see you in the morning light

I see your face when you’re waking

I wish you could see how you’re everything to me

You’re my love, you’re my life and I’m not faking.”

“Sometimes I think my heart might burst -

that’s from loving you - but I won’t let it

You’re the sun in my sky, the light in my darkness

You’re my love, you’re my life…”

Merlin turned then to look towards the wings and smile at Arthur.  “…And don’t forget it”

Arthur couldn’t stop himself returning that huge smile with interest, and didn’t want to.  He watched impatiently as Merlin waved to the audience and thanked them in his usual polite and slightly self-conscious way (which was earning him a lot of fans so they weren’t going to be changing that any time soon).  Merlin jogged off the stage and straight into Arthur’s arms.

“That was brilliant!” Arthur exclaimed.  Merlin was wet with sweat from his time under the hot stage lights but Arthur didn’t care.  There was plenty of time to change before Merlin needed to go back out and duet with Uther.  Maybe they could make use of Merlin’s dressing room.

“Did you like it?”

“I loved it!” Arthur leaned in for a kiss.  “I love you!”

“Oh my god, I’m going to puke!” Morgana groaned from behind them.  “You two are just too nauseating for words!”

Arthur just gave her the finger and carried on kissing his boyfriend.  They might have stayed there longer but the stage hands were trying to get past them to get ready for Uther’s set, so they reluctantly broke apart and headed off for the green room.

“Don’t change the set without letting me know again though,” Arthur said as they went through.  “That was stressful!”

Merlin shrugged, unconcerned.  “Years ago managers had to deal with idiot musicians trashing hotel rooms and eating frogs and things.  Be thankful all I do is serenade you!”

Arthur didn’t really have a reply for that.  Being serenaded from the stage at a huge concert was a pretty great declaration of love.  He wondered how he could top it.  Maybe a romantic holiday somewhere now the tour was over and then a proposal on a moonlit beach at midnight or something…

“What are you smiling at?” Merlin asked as Arthur pushed open the door.

Arthur shrugged.  “Just my life.  It’s pretty good.”

Merlin beamed back at him delightedly.  “You really liked the song?”

Obviously Merlin had been very nervous about it.  It must have taken a lot of courage to expose a brand new work out there in front of all those people.  And he’d done it just for Arthur.

“I loved it,” Arthur told him again. 

Morgana pushed past them and made another puking noise as she did so.  “Where’s the bar, I need a drink after all that nausea!”

Uther and his band were already in there, helping themselves to the hospitality bar and buffet.  So were Mordred and Freya, who had been taking every excuse to accompany their father and brother to as many venues as Hunith would allow them to go to without missing any school.  Mordred in particular was thriving on it – apparently their father’s regained cool status and the fashion shoot had elevated Mordred’s social standing and he seemed a lot happier than when Arthur had first met him.

“Great show!” Uther called.  He was drinking something that Arthur hoped was water and not neat vodka.  “That new track needs a bit of work, get Gaius to help you with it next week.”

“It’s perfect just how it is,” Arthur insisted, not wanting Merlin to be put off.   

“Listen to your father, boy,” Balinor insisted.  “Uther knows what he’s talking about.”

Sometimes Arthur preferred it when Uther and Balinor had been mortal enemies.  These days, after Uther’s brush with mortality and their hugely successful reunion tour, the pair of them were rarely out of each other’s company.  They’d even started writing the next album together – with as few tambourines as Uther could get away with.  Uther had mellowed a little after the heart attack and was more open to hearing other people’s ideas.  Arthur hoped that was going to last.  He sat down beside Merlin and helped himself from the serving plates that were being brought round, remembering to thank the waiters because Merlin hated it when he forgot.  He even took things down to the kitchen sometimes when he was at home.  Morgana had recovered from the shock eventually. 

“I’m grateful for your help,” Merlin told Uther.  “I’ll always listen!”

Uther looked far too pleased with himself at that.  Merlin really was a little suck-up sometimes, and Arthur was going to torment him about it later.

“As I’d expect from my fake son!” Uther saluted Merlin with his drink, which made Arthur even more suspicious about the contents.  Still, Uther had always needed a drink before going on stage. 

“Ah Arthur, why can’t you be like your fake brother and go up on stage with your old dad?” Balinor put in.  “I’ve heard you singing with Merlin backstage, you’ve got a fine voice!”

Uther, Arthur noticed, just looked down at his glass for a moment very sadly, then took a long swig and got to his feet.  “Never mind that, almost time.  I’m off to warm up.”

That was the cue for the entire band to leave with him.  Gwaine lingered briefly by the bar, but Balinor yelled for him to join them and then they were gone.

“It’s sad, isn’t it,” Morgana commented.  “This will probably be the last time you’re all doing a tour together.  A couple of months and then Merlin’s going to be off doing his own tour.”

“I might do a guest spot with Uther sometimes on TV or something,” Merlin shrugged.  “Our song was massive, we’ll sing it together again.”

They would, without doubt.  But they’d never tour together again, Arthur thought.  It made him unexpectedly sad.  He had, he realised, enjoyed the last couple of months. 

“Just think,” Morgana mused, pouring herself a glass of wine.  “If Arthur had done the duet like Uther wanted you two would never have met and The Dragons wouldn’t be back together.  Lucky he’s so obstinate!”

It was fairly rare for Morgana to turn up for the concerts.  She’d provided Merlin’s stage outfits as part of her business deal with Arthur, but most of the time she was too busy with her growing brand.  She hadn’t set the world alight yet, but they were thinking of branching out and opening a second boutique, this time in Paris.  Things were good.

And then he thought about his father’s expression when Balinor had talked about Arthur singing. 

Uther wouldn’t be around forever, the scare the previous year had alerted them all to that.  But he was going strong at the moment.  Arthur had never got on as well with him as he had done on the tour in the past few months.  Perhaps they’d found some common ground at last?  Whatever it was, Arthur had enjoyed it.

“Merlin,” Arthur began.

“What?”

“Have we got time for a quickie, I’ve always wanted to do it in Wembley stadium!” Morgana filled in, putting on a ridiculously high little voice.

“Funny,” Arthur told her.  “Merlin, I’ve got an idea,” he glared at Morgana in case she came up with another suggestion.  “But I’m going to need your help…”

“The men’s showers?” Morgana suggested.

Sometimes Arthur wondered why he’d ever helped her out.

It was almost the end of Uther’s final set.

On the penultimate song, Merlin always went back out to duet with Uther on their hit song.  That night was no different.

“Thank you,” Uther was saying to the crowd.  “You’ve been a great audience.  Now, last year Balinor here…”

There was a cheer as Balinor raised a fist in the air from his place on the stage next to Uther.  Arthur knew what was coming, because it was the same thing every night.

“…Balinor here loaned me his son…”

More cheering. Merlin was very popular.  Arthur wondered if he could go through with this.

“… Merlin, who recorded something with me that I wanted to do for my own boy, Cat.”

Cat.  It didn’t matter how many times Arthur told him, Uther would always keep calling him that.

“So, can you all welcome back Merlin Emrys!”

Merlin ambled self-consciously back onto the stage.  They’d tried to have him doing confident strides, but it just didn’t look right on Merlin, so in the end he just did his own thing.  This time Merlin had his guitar with him.  Arthur saw Uther frown slightly at that.  Merlin was a great singer but he didn’t quite have his father’s talent with the guitar.  He was perhaps slightly above average but that was it. 

Merlin stood next to Balinor, who frowned at him until Merlin leaned forward and whispered to him.  Then Balinor chuckled to himself, and slapped Merlin on the shoulder.  They were getting on better too, Arthur realised.

The lights dimmed, and focused on Uther whilst he sang the first two verses.  Arthur had heard the song so many times by that stage that he knew it backwards.  It was a simple enough matter to take the microphone that he’d appropriated and walk out there at the start of the third verse.  With the lights dimmed he couldn’t even see the audience all that clearly.  And that was definitely a help.

Uther had turned to Merlin, who was playing his guitar alongside his own father.  Merlin looked up at him, smiled, and carried on playing.

Arthur took a deep breath, then started to sing.

“How can I try to explain…”

Uther turned, and the momentary shock on his face made Arthur wonder briefly if perhaps they shouldn’t have done it.  What if Uther had another attack?  But they’d been told not to treat him as if he were overly fragile, so Arthur persevered.  A moment later and he was rewarded with a delighted smile from his father.

Arthur knew he was never, ever going to completely get over his own dislike of being on the stage.  But he kept singing to his father, and to Merlin, Gwaine, Lance and Balinor behind him.  If he didn’t look at the audience then Arthur could pretend that they weren’t there. 

And it was Uther who almost missed his cue for the fourth verse, not Arthur.  They sang their respective pieces, fairly faultlessly.  At the end Uther hugged his son, then acknowledged the crowd. 

“Thank you!  This is my son!”

“Enjoy it, Dad,” Arthur whispered.  “It’s the first and last time!”

“Thank you… Arthur,” Uther said quietly. 

Finally!  Arthur couldn’t help laughing at that, in a sort of crazed relief. 

 “About time he got his own son out here instead of trying to steal mine, right?” Balinor yelled into the microphone.  Gwaine, who had been shirtless for almost the entire set, gave a massive drum roll of approval, then another even louder one as Arthur raised a hand in an awkward half-wave to the audience and hurried off the stage, Merlin following him.

“They _loved_ you!” Merlin told him.

“I think you’d have done a better job,” Arthur admitted.  It was true, he’d been slightly off-key at once point.  “They’ll probably ask for their money back!”

“I doubt it.  They’ll all be able to tell their friends they were there on the one night that Uther’s actual son did the song.  It’s a fan status thing.”

 

Back on the stage, Balinor struck up the opening chords to _Dragonlord_.  There was a massive cheer from the audience.  Gwaine started the familiar drumbeat that pounded all through the song.  More cheering, which only seemed to encourage him.  On bass, Lance was playing on, only interested in the music, which was fortunate given the three extroverts that he was sharing a stage with. 

“Dragon-lorrrrrd!  Dragon-lorrrrrd!” Uther began.  He was playing an air guitar in a perfect mimic of Balinor.  And Balinor was encouraging him.  Then they started head-banging together. 

Arthur groaned.  It was a part of the set that he preferred not to sit through, generally.  Uther and Balinor had to be the two most embarrassing fathers of all time.  The real mystery though, was that their fans were loving every minute of it.

“They’ll have an embolism if they’re not careful!” Merlin sighed, watching the pair of them rocking out together.  He turned away, shaking his head. “I need a drink, and then can I divorce my father?”

“I’ll join you on both counts,” Arthur sighed as they headed back to the green room.  “What was with that air guitar?  Can’t he afford a real one?”

Merlin laughed at that.  “You can buy him one for Christmas.  Maybe one of those inflatable things?”

Arthur had seen enough of his father’s shows over the past couple of months to realise that if he did such a thing it might backfire.  Uther and Balinor were quite likely to take the wretched thing out on the stage with them.

“Er… no.  Definitely not.”  He pushed open the door to the green room.

It was mostly empty, so they could settle down on one of the sofas together with the drinks they definitely had earned.

Behind them, on the large TV screen at one end of the room, the anthem was reaching its climax.  Arthur and Merlin weren’t paying attention to it though. 

“One day,” Arthur promised, clinking his glass to Merlin’s in a silent toast, “you’ll be the headline act out there.”

“And you’ll be right here with me,” Merlin replied, snuggling up to him on the sofa.  “Always, right?”

Arthur had never been more certain of anything.

“Always.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [ART: Father and Son](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16079384) by [LFB72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFB72/pseuds/LFB72)




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